Mega Man X: Terrornova
by Revokov
Summary: Shortly after the fall of Final Weapon, a decade old conspiracy surfaces that threatens to blow the entire Hunter organization out of the water. (Final chapter and epilogue posted)
1. Hidden Evil

1 Prologue-Hidden Evil  
  
Faster, faster! Don't quit now! Look, you've almost got him! Oh, that last one took him by surprise…now, before he regains his composure! Go for it…YES. Now for the next one…hmm, you're getting up there in rank, and they're getting better at this…okay, there he goes. Watch him, figure out why he's jumping…oh, Lord, it's because…  
  
The young Reploid's thought process was abruptly shattered by the realization that his competitor was dodging training mines, devices used by the Hunters to symbolize land mines without actual damage to any poor fool wandering into them. They were used for training, after all. But for now, they were just one more obstacle on an elaborately laid course.  
  
Running jump, that'll take you past most of them… The crimson armored Hunter quickened his already breakneck pace and kept his eye on the flat silver discs that might well mean the end of his race. A golden ponytail flapped in the wind behind him, like a trail of fire at the end of the comet. Almost there…gotta wait till the last moment, or I won't make it far enough…wait for it…now!  
  
The "minefield" was covered an area of about thirty feet, and try as he might, the Reploid knew he'd never be able to get all the way across in one leap. Still, he'd deal with that problem when he came to it…and it didn't take long. His well-timed leap took him the majority of the way over the danger below. He curled up his legs to see below him, picking out a place that didn't have many mines nearby, and steered himself in that direction. He extended his feet at the last minute, pushing off the ground and leaping a second time like a jackrabbit over the remaining mines, and then it was off to the next challenge.  
  
Good! All right, don't get cocky, the next one's a bitch, but you'll be able to take it! Such pep talks with himself had kept him going through the fatigue that had set in by now, and while he was sure he'd laugh later at his repeated conversations with himself, they were needed now to keep him focused.  
  
The next obstacle was indeed unpleasant. "Rooks" stood at their posts on either side of a track, their poles at the ready. The point here was to force the competitors to maneuver. Seriously maneuver. The Rooks, as they were called, were just other Hunters in rubber suits that were attached to the ground and had only one armhole. That led to a pole that was maneuvered into place to try and stop the competitor from getting any further. In simpler terms, it was like a limbo, only the pole kept moving.  
  
The crimson Reploid smiled to himself as his target, the competitor closest up, flew face first into a raising pole, causing momentary disorientation. He decided to capitalize on that, and threw a deliberate grin at the two Rooks who were first in line. He started to bend his knees as he approached, as though ready to jump. The Rooks predictably raised their poles to block him in the air, and he barreled underneath instead. The second Rook immediately threw his pole down to try and cut the competitor off, but, expecting this, NOW he jumped, clearing the first two enemies. All he had to do was get past the next three.  
  
The stunned competitor ahead of the crimson one had by now pulled himself together and outwitted the final Rook, taking off towards the last checkpoint: the finish line. His pursuer doubted the Rooks in front of him would make the same mistake as the first two, but he didn't have the time to develop a new strategy. He instead decided to simply reverse it, coming in as though preparing to go underneath the poles, and jumped at the last minute, clearing the first two. What he'd failed to notice, though, when he was clearing the minefield a few minutes back, was that his target had done the exact same thing, and that was why he'd wound up with a pole in his face. History repeated itself as the last Rook, laughing at the fact that two of these dumb rookies would make the exact same mistake, cut the crimson Hunter off just like the last one.  
  
The impact surprised him, but the rookie didn't let it cripple him. He allowed himself to fall, and slid underneath the pole. Those few precious seconds had cost him his race, he knew. Even though he now put all his effort into making it to the finish line, he knew the other competitor would beat him, so his race was over. The "real" race had been over for a while, with the first, second, and third places already taken.  
  
But he'd finished in the middle, and that was good enough for him. He slowed his pace instantly as soon as he crossed the line, absorbed the cheers of the onlookers—who clapped politely for everyone, of course—knowing the real cheering had gone on for the winners, but he hadn't expected to win anyway. He'd barely been in the ranks for a year, after all.  
  
"Almost, Zero!" said a panting Reploid in green armor. This was the one he'd been trying to beat in the end. "But I'm afraid I'm just a little bit faster."  
  
"Aw, hell!" Zero replied with a laugh, grabbing a can from an open cooler. The oil inside helped Reploid systems function easier, and in this case would allow Zero's cooling systems to get to work in a timely fashion. "You were just lucky those rubber pricks kept me busy, Gradient."  
  
"Bastards," Gradient agreed, polishing off his own can. The Rooks, in reality, were mostly hot, sweaty Hunters who didn't want to be there, and found great joy in taking out their anger on the Hunters competing in the obstacle course event in any way possible. No doubt the last one would be laughing for weeks about the way he'd nailed two dumb rookies in the forehead, one right after the other. "So, what's next for you?"  
  
"Oh, I'm done," Zero replied quickly, brushing lengthy strands of his hair out of his face, "One event is enough for me."  
  
"Well, you're no fun," Gradient said as he stretched out his recharging limbs, "I've finished my two. But I'm going to keep an eye on the weapons matches. Those should be fun, eh?"  
  
"Sure," the blonde agreed, crushing the empty can and tossing it nonchalantly behind him. On a normal day, he might catch hell for that from the groundskeepers, but today there was certain to be enough trash that no one could single anyone out. This half-assed Olympiad was a way for the Hunters to, bluntly, see who was on top of their shit. The event had been held all three years that the Maverick Hunter organization had been in existence, and it pitted rookies and veterans against each other in a variety of competitions. Of course, the "veterans" would only have been on duty for a max of three years, and in that time they'd all likely seen very little actual combat, since many of the Maverick attacks were small and contained, and the Mavericks themselves were merely malfunctioning units that would have been scrapped in a few years anyway to make way for more advanced Reploids.  
  
There were very few Hunters who didn't turn out for the event, and so Zero could be fairly certain he'd be able to seek out the other friends he'd made in his short time training with the semi-army that was the Hunters. One face he didn't see, as expected, was that of the Commander.  
  
Though the Maverick Hunters in general were funded and presided over by a sixtyish scientist named Dr. Cain, the forces were led in combat by a formidable Reploid named Sigma. A rising star in the combat community, Commander Sigma had proven so effective that not giving him command of the Hunters would have been a mistake. He didn't have much of a personality, but he was quite efficient, and even though he tended to take a lax attitude towards his job and the behavior of his soldiers, Zero knew deep down that if things got sticky, Sigma would quickly change into a ferocious drill sergeant.  
  
Everyone wanted Sigma to come out and join the competition, but each year the Commander had declined, opting to merely observe. Maybe he didn't want to spoil all the fun, Zero guessed, since Siggy would most likely defeat everyone at everything, except maybe the obstacle course. Sigma was agile, of course, but his height and build made it difficult for him to be especially nimble or inconspicuous.  
  
One face he did see, however, was that of his friend Mea. The silver plated Reploid had her sword out and at the ready, taking practice swings at imaginary targets. She was going into the weapons match. She'd probably win, too, Zero knew, as she was a regular demon with a lightsaber. Mea turned and met his gaze, waving and returning her attention to her business.  
  
Zero had met Mea while in the training program. She was slightly his senior and had taught him most of the finer points of combat, things the other rookies might not learn. They had become acquaintances fast, but that was as far as it went. Her swordplay was arguably the best in the ranks aside from Sigma himself, and Zero had little doubt she'd come out on top in this competition. Zero himself had decided he'd have no chance. He was pretty competent with his arm cannon, and he'd begun to fumble with lightsabers at Mea's urging, but he didn't consider himself good enough at either to defeat some of the more seasoned Hunters. That's not to say he wasn't worth his salt, though. There were few Hunters who would dispute that rookie Zero was something special, and though he didn't know it then, it'd become more obvious once he started fighting real Mavericks.  
  
But for now he was content to watch. He and Gradient went over to the makeshift arena where the combatants were preparing. There would be no actual bloodshed here-at least, that was the plan. The sabers issued were manufactured only to stun, and the arm cannons of those participating with them had been equipped with a safety of sorts to keep them set on stun.  
  
It wasn't long before Mea met them, looking confident as ever.  
  
"What's wrong with you guys?" she asked with a laugh, "You got smoked back there."  
  
"They cheated," both men suggested in unison.  
  
"Right." She looked towards her competition. Most of them were rookies she herself had had a hand in training. There was little to no doubt she could beat them. Soon enough, the call was made for the contestants to assemble. "Well, wish me luck!" she said with a wink and disappeared into the crowd of fighters.  
  
The contest was, as Gradient had expected, quite a sight. The soldiers enlisted in the Hunters weren't remarkable fighters yet, since they had no real reason to be, but they were certainly people you didn't want to piss off at a bar. Each individual match-up resulted in a well fought battle. The system was simple: the winners of the matches would all go against each other at once to determine the true winner. Mea made it to the final round, of course, and immediately went on the offensive, dropping two of the six remaining fighters by herself immediately, and then focusing her attention on a third. Everyone was focusing themselves on Mea, knowing that since they probably wouldn't be able to take her out alone, they should get rid of her now and duke it out amongst themselves. However, try as they might, Mea would not fall, and one of the fighters fell for a trick maneuver and found themselves stunned and out of the running. 3 on 1.  
  
Zero looked on fondly, wishing to himself that he were able to perform such feats. Being a Reploid, his physical capabilities didn't have many limits, so he may well be able to achieve that goal if he kept at it. Though Mea was probably the best with a sword, those with guns were making good use of them, trying to pick off their enemies from afar, but the remaining fighters were by now used to swerving out of the way. The Hunters were indeed a powerful, if young, army, and should be able to suppress any Maverick attacks. Zero, of course, was only thinking about the malfunctioning drones he'd been trained to deal with. At this point in time, a Maverick humanoid was a very rare occurrence.  
  
Mea had finished off all but one foe, and now charged at him with her weapon in mid swing. Since he used a gun as a weapon, he wasn't able to do much except raise it to defend against the stunning blade. Mea simply dropped and swept his legs out from under him, whapping him upside the head with her sword to finish the fight.  
  
The crowd cheered for the winner, though half of them had no idea who she was. They were pissed drunk. Mea just grinned and gave a curt bow before running off towards Zero and Gradient.  
  
"I am invincible," she said with a cocky grin.  
  
"Damn, woman!" Gradient laughed, slapping her on the back, "You gotta teach me that stuff!"  
  
"What, so you can beat me? Can't have that."  
  
"But we do have to go get drunk later," Zero pointed out, "Else you'll be sober on your big night, and we CAN'T have that."  
  
Mea gave her underling a playful whap on his helmetless head and started off for another group of acquaintances. No one was wearing full armor today, as there was no need for it in their minds. A unit of Hunters that weren't participating were on call in case a Maverick attacked, so the rest of the team was covered.  
  
"So," Gradient asked as he and Zero walked back to the restocked cooler, "I'll ask again. What are you gonna do when you leave this dump?"  
  
Zero frowned. Gradient seemed to like this question, though the blonde himself hadn't given any real thought to it. Scientists were scrambling around the clock to contain the malfunction that created Mavericks out of normal Reploids, so no one really thought the Maverick Hunters would be needed much longer. Once there was no fear of Mavericks, the Reploids could go off and live with the humans again, as Cain had originally intended, pursuing lives of their own. Of course, the Reploids would never have all the rights that humans did, because, put simply, the humans were afraid of them, but no one really cared when they thought of it, and they certainly weren't thinking about it now. The drunken Hunters were getting ready to call it a day, mingling in large groups and doing things only drunks could dream up, and since they WERE on call the next day, both Zero and Gradient figured they'd better make sure they didn't stay out too late.  
  
Zero turned to look for Mea, intending to figure out if she really did want to go get plastered before turning in. She was walking with the judge for the weapons match, probably confirming her victory. She glanced up finally and their eyes met just before Mea's head exploded violently into a cloud of scrap and coolant.  
  
The air around Zero crashed. For a second he was paralyzed, not quite sure if what he saw had been real or not. Maybe the coolers were getting to his head? No, that wasn't so, because everyone, drunk or not, seemed to be freaking out. Groups became frantic mobs, rushing for safe cover, but Zero still wasn't moving. He just stared at the spot where Mea's body had crumpled, and where the judge she had been talking to was now frantically trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.  
  
"JESUS!" Gradient finally exploded, snapping Zero out of his trance, "Mea! My GOD!" He was already running to that area, and Zero sprinted after him. Though he'd lost to Gradient in the obstacle course race, he beat him this time, making it to Mea's hopelessly lifeless form a few seconds before his counterpart.  
  
A lot of rookies don't become anything but rookies until after they've had a brush with death. Usually, it's the first time they've ever seen something die, and the experience was different for each person. Gradient looked like he was trying to get a hold of the situation, demanding information from the judge, who could only stammer that one minute she'd been walking next to him, and he'd felt something pass very close to his own head, and suddenly Mea was a goner. She'd been shot? But by who? Who would do such a thing?! Immediately, Zero looked for some of the competitors he'd seen fighting Mea, thinking sensibly that maybe one of them had been a little angry at being defeated. But those that were left were running in to help, and Zero had seen nothing but sportsmanship from them to this point, so they were out. As far as he could tell. He was still sorting out his emotions, still not understanding that one of his first real friends had just been killed in broad daylight, for no apparent reason, right in front of his eyes.  
  
Gradient listened up for any sudden calls of "Maverick!" or "Sniper!", ready to address such calls with great violence. Hearing nothing, he returned his attention to Mea's body and Zero, who just knelt by her side in a daze, as though waiting for her to wake up. Gradient had seen death before joining the Hunters, and though no older than his crimson comrade, he'd at least had some experience with this sort of thing. Zero apparently hadn't, and was taking it badly.  
  
"Hey," Gradient spoke up finally, shaking Zero slightly, "Did you see anything? What happened? Did you see it?"  
  
Zero only stared numbly, telling Gradient that he didn't know any more than he did. The jade Reploid finally slumped to his own knees, looking over his fallen friend and allowing his frenzied brain to absorb everything.  
  
"Dear Lord…" he whispered in disbelief, "She was just alive not five minutes ago…how did this happen…why..?!" He was asking no one in particular, which was fine because Zero wasn't really hearing. The crimson one finally took some intelligent action, standing bolt upright and looking furiously through the crowds of retreating Reploids. Many were still trying to get out of the area, but by now the excitement had settled down somewhat and people were letting their curiosity get the better of them. Zero didn't exactly have any idea who he was looking for, but he knew he had to look. Somewhere Mea's killer was probably trying to mingle with the crowds and escape.  
  
His gaze fell, for absolutely no reason, on the confused face of a youngish Reploid that couldn't be any older than Zero himself. He was wearing generic black armor, and his forearms and forelegs had an almost purplish coloration. He was looking around in confusion and distress, just like anyone else, and seemed anxious to get off the scene. He merged with a group of other Hunters planning to do the same thing. Surprising himself, Zero followed.  
  
He had absolutely no reason to suspect the Reploid in dark armor, but he pursued him anyway. It wasn't something he could explain to himself or anyone else; he just knew this was the killer. He'd never seen this Reploid before, but then, he hadn't seen half these Reploids here today before, so that wasn't valid evidence. The Reploid carried no weapon, or at least seemed not to, and was generally just another passerby to anyone but Zero. If he'd been thinking clearly, the blonde would have considered the fact that chasing random people and labeling them as killers could have…dangerous consequences.  
  
But he was not thinking clearly, and he kept following. The dark Reploid never got out of Zero's eyesight, and was definitely heading for an exit. The more Zero followed him, the greater the sensation was that he had found Mea's assassin.  
  
Then, finally, for one brief moment, the hunted Reploid turned and met Zero's gaze, and there was realization in his eyes, as though he knew he'd been caught! Zero almost broke into a full run, but at that exact moment, a very large crowd of retreating Hunters passed in front of the suspect, and he wisely integrated himself among them. Zero pushed and shoved his way through the crowd in growing desperation, finally letting out a moan of defeat. He'd escaped. Assuming he was really the killer. Maybe the realization Zero had detected in the dark one's eyes was that he'd realized that a crazy Reploid was FOLLOWING him, and had gotten the hell out of there. But in Zero's mind, there was of course only one possible explanation, and that wasn't it.  
  
He turned and went solemnly back to a shaking Gradient, who was carrying Mea's body back to the HQ. The judge who had been nearest to her in her last moment, no doubt getting over the fact that death had come not two inches from his own head, followed, obviously a man who'd seen combat before and wasn't afraid to "clean up", so to speak. He had Zero's respect immediately.  
  
Quickly wiping a resentful tear off his face, Zero rejoined his friend and walked with him the rest of the way. In the background, he was vaguely aware of Commander Sigma's yelling for everyone to shut the hell up and tell him what happened, but he wasn't about to trek back and do so.  
  
In the same HQ, but years later, the now Commander Zero's eyes opened as he came out of his troubled sleep, both grateful and tormented at the same time. Grateful that his dream hadn't been the all-too-familiar one featuring a strange old scientist who wouldn't shut up about killing a blue guy, and tormented because his subconscious had chosen to replay that particular day the day before another Olympics would be finished, the first in a long time since the wars got serious. Security was rock solid, but then, when had that ever stopped the Mavericks? Zero laid his sweating head back on the pillow and tried to relax, forcefully pushing his first real friend's death from his mind. He couldn't dwell on that if he wanted to be productive.  
  
The weapons match was tomorrow; Zero would not be participating. 


	2. The Games Begin

1 Chapter One-The Games Begin  
  
Vulcan dodged each slice with catlike agility, feinting and slipping in his own attacks while he could. His opponent was just as tough as he was, if not more so, and was fighting with all he had. Still, Vulcan was the faster of the two, and all he needed was one solid hit…  
  
His opponent rolled towards him, stunning saber flailing about blindly, though the attack itself would have been very effective had he not already used it twice in the battle. Expecting it, Vulcan was able to leap overhead and thrust his saber down at his enemy, but the opponent was too fast this time, twisting out of the saber's reach and getting to his feet.  
  
The opponent, a lavender Reploid of medium height and build, flashed Vulcan a quick glare before charging at the rookie with another hail of slashes. Vulcan parried or countered each blow, and whenever he struck, the purple one was just as fast. Vulcan, a Reploid who'd spent about a month in the ranks of the Maverick Hunters, was able to handle himself in a swordfight or a gunfight, though he wasn't remarkably good at either. What he was good at was reconnaissance and speed work, meaning he was nimble enough to keep this slightly more seasoned Hunter at bay while he got his licks in. He repeated an earlier move by dropping and attempting to sweep kick the enemy, who leaped up and over the attack, but this time Vulcan sprung up and extended his weapon. The lavender Reploid twisted violently, just barely missing the stun blade that would disqualify him from the contest.  
  
All the fighters in the weapons match were evenly matched this time. There were no specific stars or expected winners, though the Reploid called Harrier was supposed to be pretty good, and with him a gunman named Rykov. Both were still in the running, and were under scrutiny from the Hunter leaders, but none knew it.  
  
Also under surveillance was Vulcan himself. The silver plated Reploid was fairly plain in appearance, with nothing special to identify himself as exceptional. However, his entrance exam had been interesting to say the least, and he had already proven that there were plenty of units that might have a use for him.  
  
Zero was the leader of one of the units looking for a good spy, and he knew very well he had priority over the other units. Except X's, but that was to be expected. The crimson plated hero sat on a balcony overlooking the grounds where the Olympiad was taking place. People below wondered why Commander Zero wasn't taking part; surely he'd come out on top. Commander X was at least on the grounds, after all. The thought brought a smirk to Zero's face. He understood somewhat why Sigma had never participated in those early games. As the leader of a big army like this, Zero had way too much to worry about to have this kind of reckless fun. Oh, his position didn't stop him from getting pissed drunk at the local bar with the others in his unit, but he didn't see himself doing something like this. ESPECIALLY this.  
  
Security was tight, as well it should be, and everywhere around the HQ was under close watch. Still, Zero knew, if someone wanted to attack the Hunters bad enough, no amount of security could stop them. It didn't look like anything was going to happen, though. After today the two day fest would be over, and the Hunters would go back to their lives of duty and service.  
  
That last time they had the Olympiad, when his friend had been killed, was shortly before the first big Maverick War. Reploids were going Maverick at a much more rapid rate, and groups of fanatics were emerging who hated humans, rather than the mindless insanity caused by the Maverick defect everyone was accustomed to. These terrorists became freedom fighters of a sort, idols for the rest of their kind, and all seemed lost when Sigma himself defected to their cause, taking most of the Hunter commanders with him. From that day till now, it had been deemed far too dangerous to have any sort of fun, but now, after Sigma's fourth defeat and the disbarring of Repliforce, things had almost quieted down to the way they were before. In light of that, Cain, at the urging of several "old timers" who remembered these games, decided to revive the tradition. Apparently, Zero thought with a humorless laugh, they'd forgotten what happened last time. But he had to admit, he hadn't seen his men enjoying themselves this much in a long time, and they deserved it, truthfully. Even if Zero himself couldn't bring himself to join in their happiness.  
  
They'd never found out who killed Mea, and he'd never found out who the dark Reploid suspect had been. When the confusion had died down and their stories had been told, Sigma had ordered a screening of all his soldiers to see if any leads turned up linking someone to the death of one of his best Hunters. Finding nothing, the frustrated Commander had put all units on heightened alert, seeing the attack as a possible sign from the Mavericks that they were growing in power or preparing for something. That was when the carefree aspects of Hunter life came to an end, and the war actually began for the soldiers, even though they weren't into any heavy fighting yet.  
  
Zero himself had been interrogated, and he'd told what he'd seen, leaving out the part about his suspect. What was he supposed to say? Tell Sigma that he had no evidence at all that this random guy had killed Mea, but he just knew it was him? The Bald One would just have replied that Zero had sought to blame someone-anyone-and the first stranger he saw became the one he'd focus his rage on, somewhat like a newborn chick attaches themselves to the first thing they see, believing it to be their mother. The Reploid definitely wasn't his mother, but Zero had hunted him anyway, doing his own private research, but there were hundreds of black armored Reploids in the world and with nothing other than a sketchy physical description that may or may not have changed, finding him had been impossible. Zero had given up the search after the first war, figuring it didn't matter anymore, especially since odds were the Reploid might not even be alive anymore. After Sigma's first fortress fell, the humans had initiated somewhat of a crackdown on all Reploids not in the Hunter ranks, perhaps hoping to discourage another Maverick uprising. Since the dark one in question definitely wasn't a Hunter-Zero's position and reputation gave him easy access to any Hunter files he wished from any base he wished, and he'd have found him by now-it was a safe bet he'd disappeared from the land of the living.  
  
And, of course, it just didn't matter. There had been bigger enemies to fry over the years, and Zero had fried all of them, despite getting fried once himself. Nevertheless, he was still nervous about the whole Olympiad, this event in particular. Since he couldn't stop it, he'd decided to at least observe it.  
  
The Hunters in the weapons match were mostly the rookies and short term members who still wanted to prove themselves. A lot of the more experienced Hunters weren't participating, figuring it'd be a little one sided. Among those that perked Zero's interest were Harrier, a cocky yet effective fighter who might serve as a good diversionist. It wasn't unheard of for Unit Commanders to have one or more of their troops risk their necks severely to draw the attention of Mavericks away from the main unit, which would accomplish their tasks as quickly as possible and then back their friends up. The problem was that a lot of Hunters didn't understand what was at stake, and would twiddle their thumbs while their allies ran out of options and got slaughtered. Or, the diversionists would let something get to their heads, usually pride, which Harrier seemed to be full of, and the enemy could easily take advantage of that. Zero used the diversionist tactic often, but his Unit certainly didn't have a problem with speed. Rykov, the munitions guy, looked like he'd be a good addition to any team needing a heavy duty fighter, but whether he'd be better in a regular unit or with Zero's special one remained to be seen. Zero's Hunters, while skilled at all areas of fighting, were usually used in special circumstances like hostage situations or other touchy scenarios, whereas units like X's Elites were used for all out warfare. That said, its easily understood why Zero was hoping as hard as he could that Vulcan, the speedy, agile swordsman-who also appeared to be fluent in distance rifles, too- would one day fall under his control. He just hoped the kid didn't get himself blown up before he had enough experience for Zero to recruit him.  
  
"Hey, Zero!"  
  
The champion Hunter turned to see Delates, a member of his Unit, hovering in the doorway leading out to the balcony. The kid had a wide smirk on his face.  
  
"What's up, Delates?"  
  
"X down there, he's got a proposition for ya."  
  
Zero was smirking himself already. "What is it this time?"  
  
"See those guys down there fightin'? X says he knows who's gonna come out on top, and he'd wager fifty bucks on it."  
  
"Of course…" the commander said to himself. Delates loved bets, which explained the smirk on his face. It also told Zero that his emerald colored sniper had already made bets with other members of the Unit on which Commander would win the bet. Betting on the outcome of a bet, there was a new one… "Which one of those children does he have in mind?"  
  
"Rykov." The compact Reploid had slunk into the room and now leaned back on a wall, regarding his commander with an anxious expression. "He installed the stun chip in his chain gun. Ry's pals say he's gonna use a single burst until the big mob scene that is the final round, and mow everyone down." A big smile covered Delates's face. "You say differently?"  
  
How could he not? "Rykov, eh? It's a good choice, but…" he tilted his head up as though thinking. "X needs to pay more attention to detail. Rykov's got his advantages, but he doesn't have enough speed. I'm gonna go with…" Vulcan or Harrier? The spy or the diversion? "Vulcan. The silver kid who just took out his opponent."  
  
"Good, then!" Delates said as he shoved off the wall, rushing for the door. "I'll give X your blessings, 'O Secluded One."  
  
"Give him a message, too."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Fifty bucks is chump change. I'm raising it to a hundred."  
  
Delates nodded and sped back down to rejoin his pals, whether to report to X or to make bets with the said pals, Zero didn't know. Suddenly there was a pang of doubt. He turned back to the games and fixed Vulcan with a look. "Oh, you better not blow it now, pal."  
  
In another part of town, far away from the craziness surrounding MHHQ, two men walked down the deserted streets, talking in small voices. Both were Reploids, but they wore large coats that concealed what armor they still had on, making them look like nothing out of the ordinary. There was no one around to see or hear them anyway, but they were cautious nonetheless.  
  
"I go by the saying," one was saying to the other, the speaker an unimposing Reploid who, underneath his heavy coat, had attire that matched that of a camouflaged soldier, the listener a short guy whose armor was a very dark blue, "that if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is. Your little proposition looks like it falls into this category, my friend."  
  
"Looks can be deceiving," the short one said simply, "You came to me, remember?"  
  
"Based on your claims. Before we agree to let you do this, we want to make sure we're not hiring some quack. This is a one shot deal, as you know."  
  
"Hey, like I said, I don't know any of this stuff. What I can do is get you through to my guy, and he knows everything there is to know about their computer systems. This all important file will be his in no time, even though it seems like a needle-in-haystack ordeal to us."  
  
"Well speed is good," the taller one said as they neared a small, poorly maintained tavern, "Because we don't have much time, and we also don't have much to go by."  
  
"Hmm. Well if there's not a lot of info for him to start with, then it might take slightly longer…"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"It's good you understand…"  
  
"You know," the taller one said as he came to a brief stop, looking around as though taking in the weather, "I hate talking like this. Like we're enemies trying to form a truce."  
  
"Agreed. It's a shame things are the way they are now."  
  
"I hope I haven't conveyed anything like a threat to you. We certainly don't punish our men for not being able to assist in a specialized area. But if this hacker is what you say he is…"  
  
"He's the best I know of," the shorter one said honestly. "And he's on our side. There are probably better hackers than him, sure, but they're Hunters, and unless you want to risk a big fuss if you try converting one of them…"  
  
"I understand. But still, I'll want to meet with this man, someplace subtle. You can come if you wish. I just need to be sure he's the right man, and to do that I have to meet him. This file is under the most classified label the Hunters have, but if there's ever been a time where they won't be keeping a close eye on it, it's now."  
  
"I understand," the shorter guy said as he stepped into the bar, turning to face his co-conspirator one last time. "I'll set something up. How will I get word to you?"  
  
"I'll make it easy. Leave me a sign somewhere around here, and show up the next night."  
  
The short one nodded and disappeared into the filthy building, while the Reploid in camouflaged armor strode back towards his vehicle anxiously. He glanced everywhere to make sure no one was following him, and entered the simple car unnoticed. As he drove off to his relay point, he wondered enthusiastically if he'd finally knocked over the first domino in the process that would bring his faction back to power, and enable his personal revenge. God, he hoped so.  
  
Vulcan inhaled deeply. He'd made it. Standing around him were five other Reploids who'd won the honor of being in this final round. There were two Reploids he didn't know, a gold one and a tan one, and they were the least of his worries. Harrier, the cocky son of a bitch who'd proven to be quite effective with the pistol he carried into battle, was surveying his enemies like a royal lord might survey his property. Ass hole. He'd be the first to go, Vulcan decided, just out of spite. Next would be Rykov, who stood quietly, his strong frame draped over his beloved chain gun. Till now, the gun had fired single bullets, but the grin in Rykov's eyes said he had something up his sleeve. He knew Rykov and Harrier already, and had established a fast friendship with the former. The latter he didn't like that much, obviously. He knew the last fighter, too. He was a tall Reploid in heavy black armor. His name, fittingly, was Nightchaser, and he too was an ass hole. To Vulcan, anyway. Nightchaser had something against the silver rookie, and being slightly higher on the rank ladder, it was easy for Nightchaser, or Chase, as his friends so lovingly called him, to make Vulcan's life miserable. Vulcan decided, no, he wouldn't go after Harrier just yet. He'd wanted to screw Nightchaser over for the longest time, and this was his chance. He didn't look at his superior directly, so Chase had no idea what was about to come his way, and fortunately for Vulcan, he was not Chase's first target. The tall Hunter was fixing Rykov with a look, probably thinking to get him out of the running before he started shooting his chain gun.  
  
Clutching his saber tightly, Vulcan waited for the blank round to fire, signifying the beginning of the match. It came, and before the echo of the bang had died in the wind, Vulcan had dashed clear across the arena and intercepted Nightchaser with a good hard swing as the higher ranked Hunter was making a break for Rykov. Chase gave him a bewildered look as he crumpled to the floor stunned, but the look soon changed to one of pure hate. Vulcan didn't see it, though, because he was fending off the tan Reploid he didn't know. His sudden attack had caught everyone off guard, but the tan guy had been the first to react, swinging his own saber Vulcan's way. The silver Hunter countered the blow and threw his feet up into the tan Hunter's chest, sending him flying back. The tan guy was prepared to land on his feet and make another rush, but before he even touched the ground he had been shot by a round from Harrier's pistol. Harrier, a Reploid in royal blue armor, had his weapon leveled at Vulcan, a triumphant smirk already plastered on his face. It vanished, though, when Harrier went down in a heap, caught from behind by a stun blast from Rykov's gun…LOTS of stun blasts from Rykov's gun. The demolitions and munitions fan was standing calmly, unloading his charges at the two remaining fighters, Vulcan and the gold Reploid.  
  
The rules of the weapons match clearly stated that each combatant could only bring one weapon into battle…they didn't say a damn thing about improvising DURING the battle, though. Taking advantage of that loophole, Vulcan threw himself to the ground as rounds from Rykov screamed past where his head had just been, springing towards Harrier's prone form and reaching out for the pistol the stunned Reploid held limply in his hand. There was no way he could get close enough to Rykov to damage him with his saber, so loophole or not, Vulcan figured as he cast his sword to the ground, this was his last resort.  
  
Rykov staggered as though physically struck, realizing too late what Vulcan was going to do. Stopping his wide spray of fire and ignoring the still active gold Reploid also, he fired blind, frantic rounds at Vulcan, just as the silver rookie in one fluid motion snatched Harrier's pistol, brought it up, and fired a single shot. Both combatants reeled, the force of the stun blasts like a heavy punch, collapsing into stiff heaps at the exact same time.  
  
The officials fired a blank round again, signifying the end of the match. The gold Reploid, a fairly decent rookie, was declared the winner. One of the Hunter medics went around to the stunned fighters, administering the surge that nullified the effects of the stun chip implanted in their weapons. The fighters themselves then proceeded to remove the said chips from their weapons, returning them to the medics before leaving the arena. Vulcan thought to go congratulate the winner, but the gold guy had already wandered off, making no big deal of his victory. At least he wasn't gonna be big headed about it, Vulcan thought, looking over towards Harrier, who was explaining to his group of acquaintances the 101 perfectly good reasons why he'd been cheated.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Vulcan turned sharply to see Rykov, who met him with a lopsided grin.  
  
"Hey. Interesting, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess…" Rykov laughed softly, wiping some dust off his big weapon. "You're a son of a bitch. You know that, right?"  
  
Vulcan laughed. "I did what I had to do, man. Not my fault you're a one man army."  
  
"Yeah, well, you're still a son of a bitch." Rykov grinned and looked towards the gathering of Hunters from their particular squad of rookies. "They'll be collecting bets, now. Wonder how THAT will work?"  
  
Vulcan laughed again. Pity the poor bastards who had to sort out bets on either of them.  
  
"I don't believe this!" Delates all but wailed, "What the hell do we do now?!"  
  
"How much did you guys bet?!" Zero asked, still getting over the irony of the situation himself.  
  
"We put a lotta money on you, sir!" said Sol, one of Zero's demolitions experts, "We trusted your superior judgment!"  
  
"Thank you, Sol. If your nose were any browner, it'd turn to chocolate." Zero grinned wickedly, looking through his soldiers to see Megaman X standing in the doorway with the same strange look on his face that the rest of them had. "How bout it, X. How do we figure THIS one out?"  
  
"I dunno," X shrugged. The famous hero of the Hunters looked over Sol and Delates, then to Alia, a member of his own unit. Alia was an up and coming Huntress. Currently she wasn't wearing any armor, but she did have a fiery red suit in her quarters. She could hold her own in a battle, but she was more suited to being a spotter for the 17th Unit, and so that's what she mainly did. X was known as one of the two Master Hunters, but he was also known as the kinder, gentler Master Hunter. Lately, though, he'd finally let Zero teach him the joys of tormenting his troops. "I say you and I just forget about it. Vulcan and Rykov went down at the same time, so neither made it." He gestured to the underlings. "They bet on us, though, and since they all lost, I say they donate it all to the treasury."  
  
"What?!" Sol, Delates, and Alia all squeaked at once.  
  
"Ha!" Zero laughed, deciding to add on. "Yeah, someone's gotta collect. That's how bets work, right Delates?"  
  
"Uh…well, sir…this wasn't no normal bet, sir!" Delates stammered, not quite sure if his superiors were serious about all this.  
  
"How wasn't it?" X asked.  
  
"Wha-come on, you saw it!"  
  
No one spoke for a few seconds. Eventually the three elites began to scrunch up their faces in annoyance, not wanting to go through with this.  
  
"Oh Jesus," Zero finally said with a snicker, "You guys sure can sweat."  
  
"You mean…" Delates sighed audibly, "I didn't think you were serious, but you…oooh!"  
  
"Damn men…" Alia said, trying to hide a smirk of her own as she pushed past X and out the door.  
  
"You guys are something else," Sol said with an embarrassed grin, "Real creeps." He looked at X. "Kinder, gentler Master Hunter, my ass!"  
  
X laughed and moved out of the way as the two Hunters left, leaving their commanders to talk alone.  
  
"You all right?" X finally asked of his long time friend.  
  
"Feh, there was never anything to worry about." Zero shook his head and gazed down at the Hunters below, who were enjoying whatever spirits were left in the coolers before they had to turn in for the night. "I just can't help but be a little nervous."  
  
"Well I can imagine…" X had still been on his anti-violence spree when word came to him from Cain that one of their best Hunters had been killed in their free time games. He hadn't joined the Hunters or much less met Zero until a long time later, and was quite shocked when his friend had told him one day that the murdered Hunter had been a good friend of his. Truth be told, X thought Zero would be a lot more paranoid than this, but the crimson Hunter had just sat up here all day, watching like a hawk. Probably thinking about new recruits, X knew, and had to smile. Even in peacetime, Zero's mind was always stuck on war, and he was always improving his unit just in case. He'd been right all three times so far, X knew, so there wasn't anything bad to it.  
  
"But," Zero said as he himself moved towards the door, "Nothing's happened, the winner is alive, and no one's out any money. Couldn't be better, actually."  
  
"So where are you going?"  
  
Zero gave half a laugh, as though the answer were obvious as sunrise. "I've been cooped up here all day. I'm hitting the bar."  
  
I SO should have seen that coming, X thought as he started after his fellow Commander. But what the hell, I haven't gotten good and drunk in ages. 


	3. The Quiet Tyrant

Chapter Two-The Quiet Tyrant  
  
He couldn't believe this. He left them alone for a few months, and they dropped their guard completely, resorting to petty games and happy fun time activities. Even when he'd been their leader, he'd frowned at how pointless the competition had been, and that had been in peacetime, too. If he were X or Zero, he'd give fifty lashes to the one who'd even suggested to revive the Olympiad, given the fact that the Mavericks had only been quiet a full three months.  
  
But then, he decided as he finished reading the report, they didn't know he was alive, either, though by now they should see it coming. Even after all these years, the humans and their Hunter slaves had made the same mistakes again. No one complained when a rather large piece of land was suddenly occupied by a "rich corporation". No one voiced any concern when that land was slowly developed into a "research lab" with a motherload of security systems. And no one had bothered to report to the Hunters that several factories were coming up short in their count of finished Reploids. But that was their problem. He couldn't help it if they were a bunch of halfwits; in fact, he encouraged it, because now he had a new fortress, built on land secluded from any city, and he had a full staff of new Mavericks to maintain it, as well as some old ones.  
  
But by far the latest and greatest addition to the Maverick army was The Team, because they were so rarely seen that the other Mavericks didn't know who they were, and simply referred to them as that. They'd come out of nowhere, seemingly, with skills he wished all his soldiers had, and each one had an unquestionable desire to aid his cause. And he did have a cause this time, he forced himself to remember, not just revenge.  
  
He'd lost control of himself the last time, totally forgetting about his dream for Reploid dominance, choosing rather to do anything to kill his rivals. Well, that wasn't exactly fair. He'd started out by turning the Repliforce against the humans, and so he'd given Reploids another chance to take over the planet. When that failed, though, he'd finally broken down. Too many defeats had whittled away at his mind, turning him into a desperate man, wanting only revenge. He'd seized control of Final Weapon upon General's defeat, and in a rage tried to use it to wipe out the civilizations of Earth. X and Zero had gotten to him just in time-though he'd finally gotten to have a good long conversation with Zero regarding his past-and, as per course, sent him packing. Only this time, he'd left a body in reserve, a hastily created shell that he'd thought to leave just in case his plans turned sour.  
  
So here he was now, in a new fortress with a new army, some members new, some old. Most importantly, he had a new plan, and the means to execute it. It was quite daring on his part, but he figured he didn't have much left to lose. It would begin shortly, once he received word that the first step had been taken by The Team, and then it would all be a matter of playing his cards right.  
  
He stared out a window at the local scenery, sunlight gleaming off his bald head, knowing deep down that this was the last straw. If he won this battle, the Reploids would become dominant, as he'd originally intended. If he failed, things were going to get a lot more messy than they otherwise might have been.  
  
Because, he promised himself, regardless of whether or not he succeeded in his goals of world domination, he WOULD be victorious in his more burning ambition: vengeance.  
  
Zero passed through the doorway leading into the Hunter Garage, breezing past the piles of spare parts waiting to be turned into something useful, as well as all the parked vehicles that, in the wake of the Maverick silence, now sat in disuse. He made his way towards a medium sized green Reploid who looked almost like he himself had been made of the aforementioned spare parts.  
  
"Zero!" the Reploid called out, dropping his project and looking towards his scarlet comrade, "It's been a long time, man!"  
  
"Yeah, well, without Mavericks to go out and chase, I don't have much use for the garage anymore…but nice to see you're still keeping the place in decent shape, Douglas."  
  
"Dear me, was that…a compliment?!" Douglas feigned amazement while waving Zero towards a jumbled mass of wires, computers, and documents. It looked almost like some of the working areas of the Hunters working intelligence, and since reconnaissance wasn't Douglas's thing, Zero couldn't help but wonder. "Well Zero, I guess I should explain why I dragged you down to the House of Grunge this fine morning."  
  
"It better be really frickin' good," Zero growled, though smirking, "I'm supposed to be indulging in heavily caffinated coffee right now."  
  
"Then try some of this," said a new voice, thunking a mug of the said liquid on the table near Zero.  
  
"Oh, uh…I was just joking, Signas, sir, but thanks anyway…"  
  
"You'll need it," replied the large, military-esque Reploid that was Signas, "But lose the 'sir' crap, please…" In Dr. Cain's growing age, he had decided to appoint a secondary leader of the entire Hunter force. His candidate, Signas, was an extremely stable unit who was well versed in combat. Signas's CPU was also rumored to be the most advanced of all modern Reploids. Though Signas technically outranked every other Hunter, he didn't actually think that way, regarding Hunters like X or Zero, who had fought in many more bloody battles than he had, as his superiors.  
  
"Of course," Zero replied, relaxing and taking the coffee. Douglas looked to Signas for the okay to continue, and started talking again.  
  
"X is going to receive this report as soon as he gets back from his patrol, so you'll both be up to date…" Douglas grabbed some of the documents assembled near the computers, fumbling through them to find the right file. His hatred for paperwork was well known, and the other two Hunters couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…okay, here we go." He handed the report to Zero, who speed read it in a few seconds.  
  
"I don't get it. This is just a real estate document." Douglas just stared back at him, head tilted in expectation, prompting Zero to analyze further. "All right…it grants a fairly large piece of land in the Alps to the 'Seraph' corporation. I know of Seraph, it's just a weapons manufacturing company. We bought from them at one time, I remember. How is this significant to anything?"  
  
"Seraph," Signas explained for Douglas, "Was founded by a man named James Axlerod. They did indeed sell weapons-to both sides, it is rumored- but nevertheless, they could never keep up with some of the more prominent weapons dealers. The company was nearing bankruptcy, and was going to close around the time of Axlerod's death. The company was inherited by his son, but he sold it shortly after to get it out of his hands. Under new management, Seraph started getting fairly decent weapons at their disposal, and the compounds which they created began to look more and more like military facilities. Now," Signas paused for effect, "A company like Seraph, with almost no money in reserve, is bought by people who are rich enough not only to purchase an entire company, but to finance the kind of projects going on now. Don't you think that someone would have at least heard of these new owners before?"  
  
"I imagine," Zero said warily, sensing a wild goose chase.  
  
"Don't disregard it just yet," Douglas urged, handing Zero a new report. "I'm sure you remember Grizzly Slash? I know I do."  
  
Zero frowned, reading the report. Grizzly Slash was a weapons dealer formerly with the Seraph group, at least before it got its new owners. One night, he and Douglas had encountered the bear when the whole lot of them were fairly drunk, and so began a very interesting skirmish. "You interrogated him?"  
  
"Interviewed is more like it," Signas grunted, "We had to pay him nicely for that information. But as you can see, Grizzly Slash was fired from Seraph as soon as the company was sold. Grizzly was one of their better agents, so he naturally couldn't figure out why they were so eager to get rid of him, and so he did a little investigating of his own. It turns out that Seraph's new owners were in fact a whole group of people, and the money with which they were buying their new equipment was coming from a number of sources. With this information, we at Hunter HQ were able to use the passcodes Grizzly got for us and we found, after long, serious sessions of code cracking, that the accounts from which the money was coming from all belonged to, get this, dead humans."  
  
Zero blinked, suddenly more interested. "What do you mean…?"  
  
"Well," Signas went on, "We weren't sure for a while, though we of course had our suspicions. Whoever had been responsible for the online transfers of money and managing of the accounts had covered their tracks remarkably well, leaving a number of viruses and hacker traps for anyone who dared to come after them. We did eventually find a user name, though. 'Kujacker'."  
  
"Oh, boy…" Zero leaned back on one of the tables, finally starting to realize what Signas was getting at. "Cyber Peacock…?"  
  
"Indeed," the secondary leader of the Hunters nodded, "Cyber Peacock, the master hacker for the Mavericks. Apparently, Sigma was a lot more economically savvy than we ever gave him credit for. During his wars, he had his men laundering funds through bank accounts stolen from their human victims, eventually acquiring a pretty impressive sum of money in all. Of course, it didn't stop there. Cyber Peacock found ways of infiltrating accounts of living people, robbing them blind without anyone noticing. Now, the Mavericks definitely preferred to plunder and steal whatever they wanted, usually violently, but I guess Sigma wanted some definite cash in reserve, just in case he ever really needed it."  
  
Douglas handed a picture to Zero. "This is an image of the compound Seraph is building in the Alps. We've done our reconnaissance, and we've more or less determined that if this isn't a military base, nothing is."  
  
"And this," Signas began again, handing another picture to the overwhelmed Zero, "Is the image I'm sure you didn't want to see."  
  
Zero blinked at it a few times before letting his face crease up with worry. "It shows an escape pod leaving Final Weapon…"  
  
"And," Douglas finished, "It ain't the one you or X took. Someone else was in that thing."  
  
"Zero," Signas said in a rather serious tone of voice, "Are you sure Sigma died in that place?"  
  
"Hell," Zero shrugged, letting his head roll back and his eyes focus on a crack in the ceiling, "When has death ever stopped that guy…? But I KNOW I saw him blow up, every last one of his forms."  
  
"But usually," Douglas interjected gently, "You guys will comb the rest of the enemy's lair to make sure Sigma didn't leave behind any surprises, like extra bodies."  
  
"There was no time…" Zero said weakly, looking back at the picture, "Final Weapon was dying fast. General couldn't hold it much longer, so we had to leave right away…" There was silence for a while before Zero spun around angrily and kicked the wall, splintering it nicely. "Damn him! Why can't he just be content to shut his damn mouth and die?!"  
  
"It's been nearly five months since Final Weapon's destruction," Signas went on, "So if that was Sigma, and it probably was, he's been a rather quiet tyrant. It's not like him to allow that much peace while he's still alive."  
  
"Tell me about it," Zero all but spat, his hatred for the Maverick Lord quite obvious. "Well? What do we do about it?"  
  
"Already," Signas said quietly, "We're too late to make a direct assault on the base in the Alps, and we don't have any hard proof that it poses a serious threat."  
  
"We're too late," Douglas clarified, "Because the place is defended by remarkably powerful weapons that Seraph is calling 'experimental devices'. A direct assault would be more costly than it would be worth."  
  
It's always more costly than it's worth… Zero knew, but he was sure Signas and Douglas were aware of that too.  
  
"We're just making sure you guys know," Signas finished, "That old Chrome Dome is probably back in action, and may well be up to his tricks shortly. So be aware."  
  
"Thanks for the heads up," Zero replied, finally taking a sip of the coffee Signas had given him earlier. "Hey, this stuff is pretty good."  
  
"My own recipe," Douglas explained. "Glad you like it, but don't drink too much at one time or it might corrode your internals." He grinned evilly at Zero's reaction. "Kidding, of course."  
  
"Yeah, of course…" Zero said warily as he departed the garage.  
  
The hacker sat quietly in his seat, staring across the table at the men who wanted to meet him so badly. Next to him was a short humanoid in dark blue armor, the contact who had informed him of this job. Across the table were two other Reploids, both bearing the crest of the Maverick army. One had armor that made him look like a camouflaged soldier, and he was sitting directly across from him, summing him up. Standing to the right of the Maverick in camo armor was a normal sized Reploid in night black armor. Sparkling golden trimmings adorned the said armor, and as he stood with arms folded over his chest, the hacker could tell that the Maverick's forearms and forelegs were a very dark shade of purple. The look on the dark one's face was fairly neutral, but he intimidated the hacker slightly more than the camouflaged Maverick.  
  
"Well, my good sir," said the camouflaged one, "This has been a fairly productive meeting, I'd say. You'll have the file by…?"  
  
"Wednesday," the hacker replied, "Three days from now. Tonight I'll learn what I need to know about the computer systems. Tomorrow I'll do all the dirty work, and by Wednesday afternoon, what you want will be in this room."  
  
"Excellent," the camo Maverick replied, "And you're sure you don't want to be compensated for this?"  
  
"What's a Reploid gonna do with money?" the hacker said simply, "The Hunters take good care of their soldiers, pampering them like kings, at least until it's time to send them out to die. No, my allegiance is to the Mavericks, and if this 'list' will really help you that much, that's good enough."  
  
"Well then," the Maverick said as he got to his feet, nodding politely at the short blue Reploid, the same Reploid he'd talked to yesterday in this same neighborhood, "I guess we all have work to do."  
  
"Indeed," the hacker agreed, getting to his feet and shaking hands with his co-conspirator before departing the room. The blue Reploid smiled knowingly back at the other two, as if to say "Told ya I knew the perfect guy for the job!" and left them alone.  
  
"You think he'll do it?" said the dark Maverick, who had now found a section of the wall to lean back against.  
  
"I figure he's got as good a chance as any."  
  
The dark Maverick smiled slightly, and answered his own question. "Yeah…he'll pull it off. No one will suspect him, of all people. And if he doesn't, Gredam, I'll have your head."  
  
"Hah, please," Gredam laughed, "Sigma will have both our heads, Malevex. But I don't really think we've got a lot to worry about." He started for the door himself.  
  
"What's the next step?" Malevex asked as he started following.  
  
"A really daring skit," Gredam said, as though unnerved, "If we pull it off then we'll be set to go. And of course, when we get that list…"  
  
"Then the real fun begins," Malevex finished, following Gredam out the door and killing the lights. 


	4. Peacetime

1 Chapter Three-Peacetime  
  
There it was, the machine of death, staring him straight in the eyes. It shuddered, finally, but that was all it did, spiting him even further. All it did was spite him, time and time again. It was the complete evil, the absolute menace to the world. And it was about time he fought back.  
  
Vulcan kicked the vending machine really, really hard. It still didn't give him his soda.  
  
"Burn in hell!" the rookie all but spat, finally abandoning the infernal contraption and heading back to the lounge. He was on lunch break, and had spent a full ten minutes of it wrestling futilely with Satan back there. For all their other technological advancements, the Hunters still couldn't get the basics down pat.  
  
Sitting at his table were Rykov and Krysta, two fellow rookies. Now that they were all well trained enough to enter a squad, all the rookies had been drafted into different Hunter Units. Vulcan had been fortunate enough to get into the same group as his friend and rival, Rykov. Krysta was also in their unit, Unit 5, and though he hadn't known her well prior to now, Vulcan was deciding she wasn't all that bad either.  
  
"Excuse me," Rykov said immediately, "I remember you saying you'd get me a soda?"  
  
"Shut up," Vulcan grumped as he sat down, "Just shut up."  
  
Rykov laughed. "Well, why do you think I sent YOU? I know how annoying those things are."  
  
"You'd have shot it," Krysta pointed out, "You're just slightly trigger happy."  
  
"I know," Rykov replied simply, "But think how useful I'll be when it comes down to toasting the Mavericks."  
  
"Provided you don't shoot one of us down in the process," Vulcan chided.  
  
"Yeah, well, don't tempt me." Rykov looked back towards another table full of Reploids. Vulcan knew two of them, though not very well. Harrier was there, the cocky Reploid rookie who Vulcan never really liked, and then there was Scythe, the golden Reploid who had won the weapons match. Scythe didn't talk much, and didn't strike Vulcan as a bad guy, but Harrier was always around the gold rookie, as though hoping some of Scythe's luck might rub off on him for the next Olympiad. If he lived that long, Vulcan corrected himself.  
  
"You keep glancing back there," Krysta was saying to Rykov, "Something wrong?"  
  
"Nah," he replied, letting a smirk onto his face, "I just keep waiting for Scythe to decapitate Harrier." At the blank stares, he clarified his statement. "Harrier's been sticking to that guy like glue. Now I don't know about you, but if Harrier was around ME 24/7, I'd go stark raving Maverick and send him to the grinder."  
  
"Hm…" Vulcan mused, "I don't see Scythe going insane any time soon, but I guess it is a welcome image."  
  
"So," Rykov said as he spun back to face his friends, abruptly changing the subject, "I hear, Vulcan, that you've been hanging around with Delates in your spare time."  
  
"Yeah," Vulcan shrugged, "Occasionally we spar in the training room."  
  
"So," Rykov pressed, "How good ARE these Unit 0 troops?"  
  
Vulcan frowned. "Delates is good…better than me, anyway. Sol came in one day and started throwing fire around at the training dummies, so he looks pretty tough…but that's all I've really seen. And, I mean, we all know Commander Zero's a god of the battlefield, so I imagine his unit is right up there with him."  
  
"That where you wanna end up?" Krysta asked.  
  
"I dunno," Vulcan replied, "Somewhere high up there, I guess…but maybe not exactly Unit 0 or Unit 17. Lots of responsibility, there."  
  
"But you're also revered as gods!" Rykov pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, till you die!" Krysta laughed, "You should listen to him, Rykov. I did a little research. The fatality rate among Hunter units is highest in Units 17 and 0, significantly higher than the other units." She paused. "Of course, when war begins, they're also bigger than the other units, and are used as the main fighting force, but still…"  
  
"Huh, whatever," Rykov said, smirking, "I wouldn't mind, so long as they revered me first."  
  
"You sound like Harrier now," Krysta said immediately. Rykov responded with choking noises.  
  
"I'm gonna try the vending machine again," Vulcan decided, while debating if he should bring his saber along just in case the machine still didn't want to play nice.  
  
"It's days like these," X said to Zero from within the confines of a private lounge, "That I wish I'd stayed in bed."  
  
Zero nodded agreement and sipped at his soft drink, which he'd obtained from the nicer of the two vending machines in the area, "You think he's gonna make a move soon?"  
  
"Nah. If he was going to do something now, he'd have done it when we had our competition thing going, when we had all our rookies present. Sigma loves to make an impression on the rookies."  
  
Zero shook his head slowly. "I just don't get it…our escape pods had radars, so why didn't we see his pod coming?"  
  
"Who knows? But all the signs are there…large land purchase, fortress construction project…and even now we're getting delayed reports that some factories that produce Reploids have been coming up short, meaning…"  
  
"The Mavs are stealing Reploids to add to their numbers," Zero finished, crumpling the empty can in his hands and tossing it into the wastebasket. "Even if it's not Sigma, there is definitely some Maverick plan in the mix."  
  
"And the irony is, we can't stop it yet." X leaned back in his chair, focusing on the ceiling. "There's not enough hard evidence to confront Seraph with, and even if we did there'd be all this legal trouble and invasions of privacy, blah blah blah."  
  
Zero grinned. "For as much as they love us during wartime, those humans don't seem to like us Hunters much when there's no Maverick threat."  
  
X found himself agreeing, much to his surprise. Everyone knew that the humans sort of limited Reploid growth and freedom, giving them far less rights than the humans themselves had, but that was no excuse for the genocide Sigma and the Mavericks proposed. He, Zero, and the rest of the Hunter leaders tended to look the other way, but lately X was wishing that they'd stop treating his race like criminals until they had a reason to. "So, what now?"  
  
"Now, I guess we beef up our units and learn as much about this as we can." Zero let out a big yawn, tired already. "But it kind of worries me that he's been so quiet."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well…Siggy's always been fairly cunning. The fact that he's been out there for around five months or so and hasn't done a damn thing except rebuild a fortress indicates to me that he's planning something, and planning it very carefully. You remember what happened last time he was biding his time like this?"  
  
"Yeah…Repliforce went berserk. So again, what should we be doing?"  
  
Zero shrugged. "I'm going to train my troops a little harder, as well as look for some new additions to my Unit. I guess you should do the same. Also, Signas tells me that Intelligence has all their spies working around the city. If something comes up, Cain or Signas will know about it."  
  
X wasn't so sure. "Let's just hope so…"  
  
Storm Eagle stared hopelessly at the machines around him, having had no idea that building warships was such a complex matter. The Maverick bird had once owned and maintained his own ship, though it was destroyed-and he with it-in the very first war. Still, he knew something about ship construction, and so Sigma had sent him to be his eyes and ears in the construction yard.  
  
The warship under construction had been conceived and designed by a capable Maverick named Revolver, who was also overseeing the construction. Revolver had at one time been an assistant in the human aviation industry before joining the Mavericks, and so he knew far more than Storm did as far as this project.  
  
The humanoid in question was now laughing at the bird's overwhelmed expression, all the while wiping grease off of his shining orange armor. "I thought you were supposed to know about this stuff."  
  
"Eheh…" Storm responded simply, "I once owned one of my own ships, but I never actually built one."  
  
"Hmm…" Revolver looked over to where his grunts were laying the groundwork for the Maverick's latest project. "Yeah, I guess I'm not surprised. Birds aren't good at the technical stuff."  
  
"Excuse me…?"  
  
"Heh heh, ever hear the phrase? 'Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines'."  
  
"Very funny…"  
  
"It is, if you happen to be a weasel." Revolver looked down to the member of his construction unit that actually resembled the said animal, but he was in fact a Reploid woodchuck. No one knew why someone had bothered to make a woodchuck robot, but then, humans were a strange race. "Hey, Chuck! Call a lunch break! I'm gonna show Siggy's ambassador our digs!"  
  
Chuck just nodded and went about his new task, and Revolver led Storm Eagle down a staircase and into a large control room that operated a lot of the heavy machinery. Reploids could do a lot harder work than humans could, but even they preferred to use mindless machines to do some of the grunt work, too.  
  
"This is the throne room of our palace," Revolver stated, waving his hands over the computers and accidentally slapping upside the head the only one working them at the time. "Sorry, Greenback."  
  
"Augh!" the Maverick toad moaned as he leapt out of the chair and hopped out of the room, "I get no respect!"  
  
"Never mind him. Anyway," Revolver continued, typing a few lines of code and bringing up a diagram of the ship they planned to build, "Here it is, 'Gallagher'. It meets all of the Boss's specifications, and once completed it should be our most advanced weapon yet, excluding Final Weapon, and that wasn't really our weapon in the first place…"  
  
"When will it be finished?" Storm broke in.  
  
"The way we're working, gimme a month and it'll be in the finishing stages. Gimme another week and we can fly it. It's not that hard to build stuff any more, it's just dreaming the stuff up that's the hard part. But, luckily for you, I am a genius, so there won't be any problems."  
  
"I'm not sure Sigma will like waiting another month…but all right."  
  
"Eh, well, actually, Siggy boy approved my deadline."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah. He said he wasn't in no hurry." Revolver wiped a bead of sweat away from his now-greasy black hair, "He's really taking care of every angle this time. Think he'll pull it off?"  
  
"Of course he will," Storm replied automatically, "The Hunters can't get lucky every time. One day or another, Sigma will come out on top. And with this plan, it's likely to be now."  
  
"So what IS this mysterious plan?"  
  
"Well," Storm grinned, masking the fact that he didn't know either and hated the fact, "It doesn't really concern you. You've got a job to do, so do it."  
  
Revolver absorbed that, and nodded, looking back towards the diagram. "Siggy never told the grunts much, eh? Just follow the leader, he'll know where to go." His eyes narrowed. "Hasn't worked the past few times, Stormy. Watch your flanks this time, eh?"  
  
"Of course," Storm nodded, exiting the control room, "I'll relay your concern to the Boss himself."  
  
Revolver frowned as the eagle left. He didn't like those birds, mainly because birds had a habit of emptying their bowels whenever he was in striking range. But, he thought as he turned to face his growing project, those birds he liked, the birds he built, and this one would be his greatest achievement. He would personally throttle Storm if he crashed it.  
  
The hacker's fingers danced over the keyboards, opening file after file and closing them immediately when he was done with them. He'd spent the last many hours memorizing the way the Hunter computer systems worked, and now knew ways around most of their security systems. There was, of course, the chance he'd get caught, and that would be the end of his free life, but this was his duty as a Maverick, and all Mavericks faced risks.  
  
He had no idea what exactly he was looking for, but he did have a description of the file. He was looking for information on an extinct program, one that was supposedly blacker than black. The Mavericks who wanted it seemed especially anxious to have it, and though he didn't know why, he knew he had better not keep them waiting.  
  
All of a sudden, he had it. It was a file marked "TN RRP", and it was filed under "Top Secret". He was playing with serious fire, here. He inserted his disk and copied the file, winding up with a simple word processing document and some graphics. Frowning, he closed the programs, having expected something more. When he was satisfied that he'd covered his tracks well, he copied the disk onto another, just to be safe, and rebooted the system to totally erase some of his past maneuvers. He shut everything down and left it as it was when he'd arrived, departing the room silently. He didn't have to deliver the file until tomorrow, but at least he had the hard part out of the way. Within him was the burning desire to know, why was this document so important to the Mavericks?  
  
Oh well. He supposed he'd find out shortly enough. 


	5. The First Step

1 Chapter Four-The First Step  
  
"It was good to see you again, Pete," Dr. Cain said with his traditional warm smile, shaking hands with his guest, "I wish you the best of luck with your project."  
  
"Good health to you, Doctor," replied General Peter Thornton as he returned the handshake, smiling back at Cain. He nodded politely to Signas and, in high spirits, departed.  
  
"An interesting lot of company you keep, Doctor," the second in command stated.  
  
"Yes, well…" Cain replied, settling back into his chair, groaning as if to testify to his age, "General Thornton was never a favorite of mine, anyway."  
  
"You couldn't tell," Signas responded with a raised eyebrow, "What with the way you two carried on."  
  
"Pete was always a dreamer," Cain explained, "He came on a little too strong for some people's liking, myself included. He's strongly tied to politicians, after all."  
  
"That's no good…"  
  
"Agreed. God knows what his people have done in their lives, but that's a guy who'll do most anything for his ambitions. It's admirable in some cases, but…"  
  
"All one has to do is look at Sigma to know what else ambition can do to you."  
  
"Exactly…" Cain stretched luxuriously, looking over his second in command. "So, Signas, how are you adapting to life as a Grand Commander?"  
  
"It's different…" Signas admitted, "I haven't exactly spent much time with this army, so I feel a bit out of place as its leader, but…"  
  
Cain shrugged. "Don't worry too much, my boy! The Unit Commanders have been cooperative, have they not?"  
  
"Yes, X and Zero especially, which is a big relief. I don't think they've gotten over the Sigma thing yet…"  
  
"Yes, well…" Cain let out a long sigh. "They've been fighting him for ages now…X hasn't had much of a life because of it. Before he joined the Hunters he was just a big mass of confusion, not knowing what the hell he was supposed to be doing. Afterwards, he became the one everyone depended on to win the big battles, and in a sense do all the real work while everyone else cowered behind him. Whenever a peacetime like this is interrupted, I'm sure it depresses him a bit…Zero, though, he doesn't mind war at all. He claims it keeps his wits sharp, and I'd have to agree." Cain looked lost in thought. "He also hates Sigma with a passion deeper than even X, though I can't see exactly why. I mean, sure, they're archrivals, but still…"  
  
"Perhaps," Signas offered, "It stems from the fact that Sigma's soldiers got Zero killed? Maybe Zero's ego couldn't just forget something like that."  
  
"That's what I was thinking, and recently it's gotten worse, what with Colonel and Iris…I don't know, sometimes I really worry about his mental stability." Signas's eyebrows raised immediately, and Cain had to clarify. "I mean, I don't expect him to go Maverick or anything. He's already proven he's too strong to give in to that virus…I just think that he might be losing himself, I guess."  
  
Signas bowed his head in thought. He knew by now that the childless Cain tended to think of X and Zero as his "children", if nothing else because of the large amount of time the three spent together. Anything that might seriously endanger either of them weighed heavily on Cain's aging mind.  
  
"I don't see Zero losing it any time soon, sir. He and X will beat Sigma again if need be, and each and every time he returns until they beat him for good. They've come this far; nothing's stopping them from going further."  
  
Cain smiled slightly, trying to believe it. "I know, I know, I'm just an old worrywart nowadays. Anyway, how about Mr. Sigma? Anything coming up on him lately?"  
  
"Nothing yet, sir," Signas said in a resigned tone, "But I should probably be knocking on wood right now, knowing that weasel…"  
  
General Thornton closed the door of his suburban home behind him and collapsed on his couch. He had another project under his control. He loved these moments, and at the same time hated them, because they meant he had a new window of opportunity before him, but there was now the responsibility of making everything work.  
  
But that was business, and business hours were over. The 56 year old general, who had never actually seen combat, but had risen to power through shady friends and behind the scenes work during the wars that were honorable, in his mind anyway, but wouldn't be understood if he told anyone about them. One in particular, but the past was the past.  
  
Thornton got to his feet as his wife and daughter entered the room. His wife Margaret, a woman of 50 years, was half buried in shopping bags, and his daughter Susan, a 20-year-old college student carried her own baggage.  
  
"Okay, remember," Margaret said as she got near her husband, "We're returning these things and going out for dinner, meaning you'll have to make something for yourself. There's a frozen pizza in the fridge, and we'll be back around 10."  
  
"Of course, of course," he replied as he kissed his wife goodbye, "It's not rocket science."  
  
"Right," his daughter laughed as she followed her mom out the door, "Try not to set the house on fire."  
  
"So funny…" Thornton muttered as they left, and marched into the kitchen to prepare the said pizza. Ten minutes later he was eating it, alone in his home, and reading through the files he'd brought home with him. In exchange for cooperating with his project, Cain wanted Thornton to do a little research on a company called Seraph, and here was a file containing their basic description. Though he'd heard of the company, he'd never heard of anything that might be remotely threatening come out of Seraph.  
  
He set the file down as he got up to refill his glass of water, noting a shrill whistling sound. He cleared his ear with his finger, reminding himself that he probably needed to see a doctor about his varied ear problems. He made it to the sink, and at that precise moment Satan flew through the back wall of his house, shattering everything in its path and creating a swirling inferno and a shockwave that threw Peter Thornton clear across the room.  
  
The area of the floor where the missile had landed was now nothing more than a crater. One whole side of the house was blown in, and the rest of it was burning and falling apart at a rapid pace.  
  
Terrified, Thornton dragged himself over behind a counter, where he cowered until he could shake the cobwebs out of his frenzied mind. His vision focused again, and he beheld the all consuming fire that was quickly reducing his home to ashes. Thanking his god that his family had just left, Thornton tried to limp towards the front door, making slight progress, at least until an area of the second floor above him caved in and sent a tornado of splintered wood and other projectiles flying down at him. He threw himself to the floor, covering his head and screaming, and when it was over he tried to jump to his feet but he landed terribly, and when he turned to see why his left leg wasn't responding to his brain's commands, he was quite shocked to find that it wasn't there any more.  
  
The room melted into one hazy, red image, and Thornton's mind exploded in a mix of pain, fear, and frenzied confusion. Before he knew it he was screaming again, but there was also another presence in the room, and it had bound his arms behind his back and wrapped its strong metal arm around his throat.  
  
"It's been a while, Major Thornton," said the hard, gruff voice, "But that's right, you're a general now."  
  
"Wh…who are you?" The general managed to whimper, losing control of himself with every new second.  
  
"You don't remember me?" he asked, pushing a hard object into Thornton's spine, causing the general to arc his back. "Well, I don't suppose you should be expected to…you thought we were all dead, after all."  
  
Thornton's mouth went even drier and every ounce of energy he had left was diverted to desperation. He flailed and struggled to no avail, like a fish caught in a net, tears of hopelessness spilling down his face. "My god…Terrornova…"  
  
"Ah, so you do remember…" The Reploid behind Thornton laughed with cruel humor, obviously enjoying himself. "Are you afraid, Thornton? Are you afraid to face the retribution you knew was coming? You did the inexcusable…"  
  
"No, no, no…!" Thornton pleaded miserably, a total wreck by now.  
  
"Poor baby…" the Reploid said in a mocking tone, his green/brown camouflaged armor seeming very cold on Thornton's neck, "It's our turn to do the unthinkable." The Reploid activated the object pressed into Thornton's spine, and the human was quite shocked to watch a lightsaber beam explode from out of his stomach.  
  
"AGGGHHH!" Thornton all but wailed, coughing up blood at a rapid pace.  
  
The killer Reploid laughed again, deciding to be even more merciless. He leaned closer and whispered into the dying human's ear the words he knew that would make General Peter Thornton die as horrible a death as possible: "You think this is bad…it's a good thing you won't see what we do to your family."  
  
Thornton let out a sound from deep within his body that sounded like the mournful wail of a wandering spirit, and slid off the lightsaber as the Reploid deactivated it.  
  
Gredam watched the body fall to the floor, allowing himself to savor the moment as best he could. Here he was, the man who'd made his life a living hell, dead at his feet, his house blazing. This was the ultimate revenge. He would not be going after Thornton's family, though, that was just a bit of last minute cruelty. They had not been the ones responsible for Thornton's deeds.  
  
"Good riddance, you bastard…!" Gredam gave the body a mock salute before spinning on his heel and leaving the house through the back, hearing the police sirens already. What they would find would be the first evidence that compensation was finally coming to Gredam, and all the other members of Terrornova.  
  
Vulcan's saber climbed up through the air, slamming into that of the training droid with an explosive crackle. The droid recoiled from the impact, and Vulcan threw his right foot into the drone's chest to get it a good distance away from him. While it was still recovering, he charged it again, slashing into its torso and permanently disabling it. It would be nice if real enemies were this stupid, he mused, but the Mavericks generally didn't make many of the mistakes the training droids did.  
  
He turned to see Krysta finishing off her opponent. She used a fairly lightweight battle-axe to swing in wide arcs, cutting down all nearby foes. The blade was made of a light metal that was at the same time extremely sharp and durable, and it suited her perfectly. It now swung at the training droids' neck, and being a droid, it didn't make much of a move to stop the attack. The battle was over and Krysta started thinking the same things Vulcan had, mainly, it would be nice if the Mavericks were this stupid…  
  
"Very impressive," said a voice behind Vulcan. The young Hunter turned to face his unit commander, a tall, alabaster Reploid named Archer. "You, Krysta, and that Rykov fellow…you're definitely a step ahead of the others here."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Vulcan replied, standing slightly at attention, "But I don't know of any reason why."  
  
"You mean, you've been on the force just as long as anyone else, and yet do better?" Archer smiled slightly. "It's called a gift, Vulcan. Reploids-and humans, for that matter-with natural fighting abilities show up all the time here in the Hunter ranks, and they're the ones that wind up with the higher units, like the 17th. I've seen it happen a few times…don't be surprised if you find your drones slightly more…advanced from now on."  
  
Vulcan grinned inwardly. "That certainly won't be a problem, sir."  
  
Archer turned away from his soldier to acknowledge a messenger from Intelligence. Generally, the Intelligence department was the first to get word of a problem, and after getting orders from Cain and Signas, they'd also play the mailman and deliver the orders to the unit leaders. Not many Hunters working Intelligence liked this much, and since they knew well enough that everyone pretty much depended on them and couldn't do a damn thing about it, they slacked off. Here was a perfect example. This messenger, rather than walking the whole ten yards to Archer, stood by the door and waved his arms like an idiot until the commander would go to him.  
  
"Take a break, I guess…" Archer said to Vulcan as he went off towards the door. Krysta sidled over towards Vulcan, yawning gloriously, as soon as his commander had left him.  
  
"So what was that all about?" she asked lazily.  
  
"He's gonna give us stronger drones to fight, because we rock. Rykov, too."  
  
"Oh, he'll just love that…" Krysta looked warily at Rykov, who was actually teasing his droid.  
  
Rather than simply shredding the already damaged drone, Rykov had switched to low power on his chain gun and was sending out single shots, targeting various pressure points and dodging the droid's attacks at the same time. He was trying to keep the droid active as long as possible, but at the same time work on dodging and aiming. That, and it was fun to be so obviously superior to the enemy.  
  
"Let's not tell him," Vulcan suggested, "So that tomorrow when he does that, the droid will just stroll up to him and kick him in the shins. Can you imagine the look on his face?"  
  
"Shamed by a battle droid…" Krysta had to laugh. "That'll put a hole in his ego. Though he's not as bad ego wise as others…" She referred of course to Harrier, who by some small miracle was not in their unit.  
  
Vulcan was about to reply when suddenly all the drones in the room dropped to the floor, inactive. Rykov was very upset. However, he still turned with everyone else to look at Archer, who was the only one who could shut the droids off.  
  
"Maverick Hunters of Unit 5, get equipped for a field trip and meet me back here in ten minutes." Archer's eyes narrowed and his voice dropped a few levels; he was all business now. "We have a situation."  
  
A situation, he said? This was a catastrophe! Vulcan stared in a fair amount of disbelief at what had once been a house, but was now just a smoldering wreck. It wasn't exactly the biggest disaster scene in the world, but what really struck the Hunter was that a single small rocket had done the job. Whatever their weaknesses, the Mavericks certainly had potent weaponry. It was suddenly obvious how they were able to flatten entire cities.  
  
Apparently, this was where the late General Peter Thornton lived, but what was left of him had been taken away by now. The fires were finally under control, but if anything things were even more hectic than they had been when the fire was still blazing.  
  
Thornton's wife was now talking to Krysta, sort of. She wasn't getting much out other than helpless sobs, though. Archer had asked Krysta to help get the woman to cooperate, and head for a safe house in case the people who had killed her husband wanted to keep the ball rolling, if nothing else because Krysta worked the best with humans.  
  
Vulcan, however, was nearest to Susan Thornton, the general's daughter. She had gotten over the shock of the incident by now, but she didn't seem any better for it. She paced back and forth, still trembling with sobs now and then, trying to get a hold on the situation. Vulcan had never seen people dealing with a tragedy firsthand, and he didn't exactly know what to say, though he figured he had to say something. He was, actually, supposed to try and get the family out of the area. Staring at the remains of their former home couldn't help their stability much.  
  
"Um…I'm sorry about what happened, ma'am," he started, and she stopped and stared hard at him, "But we really need to get you to a safer place…"  
  
"Safe?" she all but spat, "Safe? What's safe?" Her already misty eyes brimmed with fresh tears as she threw him an accusatory glare. "He was working with you Hunters…why didn't you give him any protection?!"  
  
"Wha….?"  
  
"You just…" she turned away, wiping the tears from her face and choking out a sob before trying to compose herself again, "You just let him die…" she finished, just as Archer passed by.  
  
Vulcan was about to say something else, but Archer's hand rested on his shoulder, cueing him to stop. Susan shook her head violently a few times and looked for someplace else to walk to, where she could be alone.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Archer said softly as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared after the young woman, "Victims of a tragedy like this will have a lot of trouble finding answers…they're likely to strike out at the first available target, and pin the blame on them." He sighed in resignation. "In this case, she's chosen the Hunters…in time she'll come to her senses, of course, but until she sorts out her thoughts…"  
  
"This is horrible," Vulcan managed, "Why would someone do this…?"  
  
"We don't know yet," Archer admitted, trying to find the right words. "People do strange things sometimes. This might not even be a Maverick attack, like we of course assumed. It could be that Thornton was murdered by a human rival who wanted him out of the way. It could be burglars. There are a whole number of possibilities…but the world is not a friendly place." He motioned towards the widow and her daughter. "And these are the common folk who have to deal with that. Can you imagine what it was like during the wars, the first one in particular? You'd see this every day, and in mass quantities."  
  
Vulcan was silent, processing the image of hundreds of thousands of destroyed families. It was quite a disturbing thought, and one that merely awakened him further to the realities of combat and war. He was sure the others in his unit were learning the same things.  
  
"Don't worry about them," Archer continued, "We'll get them to a safe house until this blows over, and we'll calm them down and what not. Then comes the hard part of figuring out who did this…since Thornton WAS involved in some Hunter projects, it is feasible to believe he was killed because of them, and so we have to investigate." He looked at the wreckage one last time. "But we've done enough here. There are no threats in the vicinity, so Intelligence will have no trouble searching the place for evidence. Let's get the group together and go home."  
  
"These guys don't know the meaning of 'subtle', do they?" Cyber Peacock shook his head at the news report covering the murder of General Thornton.  
  
"I don't know," Storm Eagle countered with a beaky grin, "I like their style!"  
  
"Feh…" the brilliantly decorated bird tilted his head to one side and reclined further in his chair. "The guy probably deserved it, but still…"  
  
"Oh, he deserved it," Commander Sigma insisted from behind both of them, seated in his own slightly larger chair, "Though I'm not sure exactly why."  
  
"Whaaat?" frowned a puzzled Storm, "Didn't you have a reason for sending The Team out to nail that loser?"  
  
Sigma shrugged. "Thornton's killing wasn't exactly endorsed by me…it's something The Team is doing on their own." The corners of his mouth actually twitched up into a slight smile. "I love it when the mission is so blunt."  
  
Cyber cackled, spinning in his swivel chair back to face his computer. "And now I'll go and check the message boards. See what people think of us. Ah yes," he crooned as his fingers danced effortlessly and rapidly across the keyboard, "'MAVERICK BASTARDS!' 'Damn Reploid Revolutionists Don't Know When To Quit!' 'Mavericks suck!' They love us so much, don't they?"  
  
Sigma let out a laugh that was full of actual humor, something his cohorts had not witnessed in a long time. "I'm touched by their devotion."  
  
"Notice that they only consider us to be the suspects, and no one else," Cyber mused, "We've become the international scapegoats."  
  
"Kind of fun," Storm snickered, "Considering they can't do a whole lot about us."  
  
"Sort of," Sigma corrected him, putting a damper on the mood for a moment. "How goes the other plan, Storm?"  
  
"Oh." Storm shifted his weight to look his commander in the eye. "Revolver said that the Gallagher should be battle ready in about a month, as scheduled. He does, however, lack a few of the necessary parts, and he'll need us to get them for him because in order to keep production moving swiftly, he needs all of his men in the garage."  
  
Sigma shrugged. "Get a list together, and do what you have to as far as getting the stuff."  
  
Storm nodded. "Most of the stuff should be right here in our base, but we still might have to do some outside searching. Is Gravity Beetle still available for an assignment?"  
  
"He'll do fine. Get in touch with him first thing tomorrow." Sigma stretched once and pulled himself to his feet. "But for now, finish up whatever you're doing and switch off all the appliances you can. Our bank accounts have enough things eating away at them, and the electricity bill is a biggie."  
  
The birds nodded. Since they were still holding up the façade that they were really the Seraph company, they had to pay bills and stuff like any other company at least until their cover was blown.  
  
Sigma left his soldiers and strode through the halls of his mostly completed base, heading straight for his own quarters. The first step had been taken by his elites, and now he had to get that first ball really rolling, so that an avalanche would follow. The danger, however, unnerved him, but all things in life involved some degree of risk.  
  
One time or another, fate had to lean in his favor. 


	6. Fragmented Memories

1 Chapter Five-Fragmented Memories  
  
Located in the outskirts of the city, far from MHHQ, sat a respectably kept shop that dealt in old arms and armor. Years of friendly service and nonviolent incidents had kept the shop out of the public eye, and more specifically, out of the Maverick Hunters' spotlight, which was fine with the store's owner. He'd had quite enough of that army.  
  
While the Maverick Hunters were the very embodiment of safety and protection in the eyes of humans and noncombatant Reploids, there were always those who would have no particular love of the organization, and Mortar was one of them. The old, battle scarred Reploid had left the Hunters at his first available chance, and he'd spent the rest of his life sitting in this drab corner of the city, making lasting friendships and keeping an honest business running. He'd survived all four wars, though he'd only fought in the first one, and had long since decided that this life beat the one he'd left behind any day.  
  
But the past had a funny way of catching up with you. During his time in service, Mortar had not been involved in the everyday Maverick Hunting that was so commonly associated with the job. No, his work had been more…how would you say it? Behind the scenes? Immoral, that was the easiest word. Immoral, evil, ruthless, and amazingly legal at the same time. Nowadays he doubted that a unit such as his had been would have survived political pressure very long, but then again, nowadays the humans depended on the Reploids more than ever.  
  
Mortar's service had not been voluntary, either. He'd been "drafted", as his superiors had called it, into a "top secret branch of the most important army in the world". He supposed what they'd been trying to do was create the ultimate Hunters, but of course, what they'd done was create the ultimate Mavericks.  
  
But he'd left all that behind for a better life, a more sociable life, and most importantly, a free life. He'd assumed that he was the only one of his kind that remained on the earth, but deep down he'd always known that there had been other survivors. He also remembered well the names of those responsible for the conditions of his early life; no amount of time could erase that.  
  
That was why, when he read of General Thornton's death in the newspaper, he was not surprised to have visitors knocking on his door the day after.  
  
When the first knock resonated throughout his ramshackle abode, Mortar rested his morning paper on the ground and set his coffee mug on a table. The old Reploid got to his feet in a creaking, groaning process. His joints were old and rusty, and his parts were largely outdated due to the fact that he hadn't stepped into a shop to have himself fixed up in far too long, half from disinterest, and half from fear.  
  
The medium sized humanoid-only humanoids had been drafted for that secret unit, they were the only type of Reploid that was trusted-slowly made his way to the door, where his visitors patiently waited. He grasped the handle and took a deep breath, wondering exactly who he would see when he opened the door. Would it be the Hunters, come to interrogate him? Or would it be…someone else entirely?  
  
The door finally did open, and Mortar beheld three fragments of his past that he never in his wildest dreams expected to reencounter.  
  
"Private Mortar," said the one who had knocked, a powerful looking Reploid in camouflage armor.  
  
"Private Gredam," Mortar breathed, blinking his optics a few times to make sure he was really seeing this, "My god…"  
  
Gredam's typically stern face broke into a friendly smile. "It is good to see you again, old soldier."  
  
"I thought…" Mortar was still dumbfounded, "I thought you all were…" He caught himself, shaking his head in embarrassment and ushering them inside. "I'm sorry, please come in! It's been so long, I was a little shaken up…"  
  
"Quite all right," Gredam nodded as he entered Mortar's shack and shook his old friend's hand with friendly familiarity. The man behind Gredam was a Reploid in ebony armor with dark violet forearms and forelegs, another face whom Mortar knew all too well.  
  
"Man, Mortar," Malevex said with a grin, "You're an old man, all of a sudden!"  
  
"Hah, well," he laughed as he pumped Malevex's hand with the same warmth as with Gredam, "Years of rust has yet to dull my senses, my friend. Believe that, at least." Malevex nodded and moved over to where Gredam stood, allowing Mortar to have a look at the last member of the posse. This one stopped him cold. He of course knew that Reploids could be brought back to life, but he'd never encountered a revived Reploid that he knew of, and this one was particularly troubling, because she had died right before Mortar's eyes. It was like looking at a phantom.  
  
She was humanoid as the rest of them, of course, though shorter, and had a much more lithe build. Her armor had once been a dull silver, to allow her to blend more easily with surroundings, but she had polished it to the point where it gleamed in any light. The amount of armor she wore was almost casual, covering just the lower arms, lower legs, and her chest and upper back. The rest of her was midnight blue, and scantly armored, so that she could make quicker movements and use more agile techniques. Raven black hair was tossed carelessly over her right shoulder now, and her blue eyes, eyes that had always seemed to radiate with cunning and cleverness, were now filled with nostalgia and old feelings of camaraderie.  
  
"Teytha…" he smiled even as he said the name, "I'd thought you were…"  
  
"It takes more than a few Hunters," she said with a sly smile, "To keep me down."  
  
Mortar pulled her into a quick, almost fatherly embrace, which she returned, and then they both went over to their other comrades.  
  
"Sit down," Mortar insisted, breathlessly, "All of you, please! There is so much to talk about!"  
  
"Yes," Gredam nodded with his broad, confident smile, "Very much indeed." He took the seat Mortar offered him, a comfortable old armchair. Malevex plopped down on the couch, and Teytha weaved her way like a cat through the random bits of junk Mortar left lying around to sit next to her ebony armored friend.  
  
"Sorry about the mess," Mortar apologized as he himself got comfortable in a rickety rocking chair, joints creaking with every movement, "I'm afraid I'm habitually careless with my junk."  
  
"Nothing wrong with that," Malevex acknowledged with a grin. Though there was definitely a lot of stuff to discuss here, stuff that might be painful to bring out, and everyone knew it, no one was worried at all about it. There had never been anything except camaraderie between these four, and for them that could never change.  
  
"So much to ask," Mortar finally said with an overwhelmed laugh, "I don't know where to start."  
  
"How about," Malevex offered quickly, "After you left the army, what did you do? When did you get this shop, and stuff?"  
  
"Hmm," Mortar said as though musing, "I can handle that. After I left the army, I hid like a bear in the winter, of course. After seeing what was happening to all the others…" he glanced involuntarily at Teytha, who immediately reverted her gaze uncomfortably to the floor, "I didn't want anyone to find me. I stayed in hiding till after the war ended. I guess they figured I'd been killed during the fighting, or something, because no one ever came after me. I was able to set up this shop and just live in peace. My god, I have other people I can call friends now, humans who accept me, even." Though his guests were trying hard to mask the longing in their souls for what Mortar was describing, the old Reploid could see right through them. He always could. "But I guess it hasn't been that way for you folks."  
  
"No…" Teytha said with a sad smile, "Not quite."  
  
There was silence for a while, during which Mortar would occasionally glance from one person to another as if to prod them to speak. Finally, Gredam managed to piece together what he wanted to say, and spoke in his powerful, convincing baritone. He had always been the leader.  
  
"After The Purging was over," he said, almost choking on the first part, "I was still alive and kicking." He looked fondly at Mortar, as though reenacting in his mind heroic efforts he'd made, "We all fought against them, that's for sure. We fought valiantly as any soldier ever had, but of course we all had to hide in the end. I couldn't stay put, though. I kept leaving, looking for other survivors, even when The Purging was still going on. Finally I just got wounded too bad to keep moving, and sat in disrepair for a few years." He took a deep breath, working up the nerve to continue. "I guess I was the equivalent of a bum. I just sat around, getting drunk or moping, until I finally got a hold of myself. It was like a second wind, only of life. I started looking for survivors again, and lo and behold…" He stopped, looking towards Malevex, who began his own story.  
  
"I myself," he said without hesitation, as though telling a casual story at a campfire, "Used Sigma's War as a living, moving shield."  
  
"Ah, Vexy," Mortar said with a smirk, "You always were such a goddamn opportunist."  
  
"Hey, hey," he protested with a laugh, "'If the shoe fits', y'know?"  
  
"Yeah, Vexy," Teytha annunciated, with an evil grin. Malevex tried to blow off the nickname by rolling his eyes, but the smirk he couldn't wipe off his face didn't make it a very convincing show.  
  
"Yeahhhh." He found his train of thought and continued. "Where the Mavericks went, I went. Where they fought, I did. I never really joined their army, since I had a habit of just disappearing, but I figured that even those involved in The Purging wouldn't want to trek into a horde of Mavericks to find me. I was right, I guess, cause I'm still here. After all that garbage I was, how do you say, pissed. I got back at humans my own way, mostly by manipulating them in monetary deals that gave me the funds to start a very quiet global hunt of survivors. That's how I found Gredam. Almost as soon as we reunited, the anti-human feelings started brewing like a witch's kettle. From there, one thing led to another…"  
  
Gredam caught Mortar's eyes looking quizzically at Teytha for a second. He wanted to know her story, probably more than either his or Malevex's. During their time in the Hunters, Teytha had been one of the youngest members of their team, and Mortar had sort of played the role of a father figure for her. All their comrades had been depressed, confused, or disillusioned, but she had had a particularly hard time. Deciding not to make his old friend wait any longer, Gredam cleared his throat and spoke. "We started looking for other people to help us with our plans. Obviously, the only people we could really trust were those from our group, but the rest were either dead or far, far away from where we could reach them. We did get word, though, through one of Vexy's gazillion contacts, that someone from our group was laying quite lifelessly in a local junkyard. We'd have never found her except for that contact…"  
  
Teytha smiled slightly to herself, and then up at Mortar. "They put me back together…let me live again. Wasn't that nice of them…?"  
  
"Indeed," Mortar agreed with an almost grateful look at Gredam and Malevex, "Very nice…what happened, then?"  
  
Teytha draped an arm playfully over Malevex's shoulders. "I went off with my heroes, here, and we started doing some heavy duty scheming."  
  
"Scheming," Mortar chuckled hoarsely, eyeing Malevex. "I bet I can guess who did most of that."  
  
"Well," Malevex grinned, "Naturally. Though the makeshift spy network I'd set up, I figured out exactly where Sigma was stationed after the fourth war, and from there it was a matter of what exactly to do next."  
  
"Our goal," Gredam clarified, "Is obviously to get our revenge against our old 'friends'. To do that, we allied with Sigma's Maverick party. Sigma himself was easily impressed by what skills we'd managed to maintain, and so he found himself relying on us heavily as far as preparing for his next big plan."  
  
"In the mean time," Malevex added, "We managed to obtain a list of names. The names are of all surviving leaders of our unit. We're gonna pick them off one by one, before helping Sigma crush the Hunters themselves."  
  
"We hope," Teytha added further, "Since its obvious that the Hunters are…well, really strong."  
  
"How exactly do you plan on beating them?" Mortar asked, getting to the core of the matter, "All of Sigma's other plans have failed."  
  
Gredam smiled an almost eerie smile. "That's right…all of Sigma's plans have failed. That's why there are going to be some changes in the Mavericks. Changes that will start soon."  
  
"We've come to you," Malevex filled the silence that followed Gredam's words, "Because you're one of us."  
  
Mortar knew exactly what he meant. "Of course…you didn't have to ask, really…I'll help you in any way that I can, you know I will! Just tell me what you need!"  
  
"Nothing yet, Mortar," Teytha said, "But we just wanted you to know that…you're not alone any more, I guess." Mortar smiled slowly and politely, as though simply acknowledging that something had been said, but the look in his eyes told Teytha that he'd understood what she'd meant: he wasn't the one who felt alone and needed to see old friends; they were.  
  
"I'm almost afraid to leave this place," he said finally, "I don't know how I can be of help to you guys here, but still…"  
  
"You can be of more help than you know," Gredam insisted, "We're not asking you to move from here, or to fight, or to put yourself in any danger whatsoever. Just if anything goes wrong, or we need someone to fall back on, to hide us or something…"  
  
Mortar nodded sincerely, once again understanding what Gredam wanted to ask. "I'm still on your side. I always will be."  
  
They stayed and talked for hours after that, reminiscing about old days, good and bad, like old friends sometimes do, and finally the three Mavericks announced that it was time to implement the "changes" Gredam had spoken of earlier. After they planned another time and place to see each other, they said their goodbyes, first Gredam, then Teytha. Mortar stopped Malevex on his way out, though.  
  
"I can't help but remember," he said to the ebon Reploid with a distant look on his face, reliving the moment he was about to describe, "Whenever I see you, I remember…that one mission."  
  
Malevex appeared uneasy, as though he'd just KNOWN Mortar would bring this up. "That's not surprising…it was kind of hard to forget."  
  
"The look on your face," Mortar continued as though Malevex had not spoken, "You were shaken up for weeks. I was worried about your mental stability, for a while."  
  
"It happened to all of us," the Maverick insisted, "At one point or another…that was just the first time I'd come face to face with what I had done…I saw his grief, and knew I caused it, knew I couldn't possibly explain to him why I'd…" He broke off. "But we've been over this hundreds of times."  
  
"Yes, that happened to all of us… But what creeped you out the most," Mortar continued even so, "Was that he just…knew."  
  
"The son of a bitch correctly picked me out of a swarm of drunk Hunters…yes, that creeped me out! You don't forget a look like the one he gave me."  
  
"Guess it didn't help who he turned out to be," Mortar said finally, sending a silent message of his own.  
  
"Yeah…" Malevex agreed in a sedated tone, "One of the most powerful Reploids ever…" He smiled ever so slightly back at Mortar, sending his silent reply. "I'll manage him just fine. You just worry about yourself, maybe get a lube job or something. You are, and I say this with all due respect, squeaky as a chorus of hungry rats."  
  
"All due respect," Mortar laughed, "My ass. Go on, they'll be waiting for you."  
  
Malevex gave him one last wave and bounded out the door after his comrades. Mortar sighed once in a combination of relief and new worry. Here his old friends had come back out of their graves, some real, some imagined, but with the activities they were engaged in, how long before they returned to the graveyard? He breathed out one last command at where Malevex would have been, despite how foolish he usually felt when talking to himself.  
  
"You'd better take damn good care of Teytha, this time…"  
  
Malevex all but collided with Teytha when he rounded the corner to the alley where their vehicle was parked.  
  
"You're rusty," she stated, shaking her hair clean of water from the midafternoon shower going on, "I shouldn't be able to startle you like that."  
  
"What do you want, a cookie?" His humor was apparently not shared, for when he started towards the car, she didn't move, rather letting her voice stop him.  
  
"He wanted to talk about that mission, again, right? The one with that Mea girl."  
  
"Elephants never forget," he grumped as he turned back around and walked back to her.  
  
"I figured so…" she said, "You look a lot more out of it than you have in a long time."  
  
"You mean, excluding those lovely episodes in Dusty's Tavern?"  
  
"No, including those…are you all right?"  
  
He leaned against the wall of Mortar's building, smiling in faux confidence and replied over the background din of their car sputtering, and Gredam's shrieked curses as he tried for the hundredth time to get it started. "We've been over this. I'm perfect. I can't not be all right."  
  
"Yeah, well," she said with a slight laugh, "You never really talked to anyone about it. Or anything else."  
  
"Well," he countered with a cruel grin, "You talked way too much."  
  
"Wha…how do you figure?!" she protested with a true laugh, "I talked less than YOU did."  
  
"That was just your cover," he waved it off, making sure his escape path was clear, "You were REALLY as motormouthed as Chris Tucker on a Riddilin overdose." He bolted for the car before she could attack him, wisely so, and she took off in hot pursuit. It was at this precise moment that Gredam succeeded in starting the car, and he left the safety of its confines to announce this fact to his comrades, placing himself right in Malevex's line of travel. A second later they were both sprawled out on the floor in dazed wrecks, Teytha laughing at both.  
  
"Now, children," Gredam said through clenched teeth, determined not to get pissed off on today of all days, "Settle down now. We've got a very important assignment coming up, here. We can get stone freaking drunk afterwards if we want, but until then…we stay alert. This is a big day for us, more so than just seeing an old friend. Today we change the course of the Maverick army forever."  
  
X's mind had turned into a maze. Hidden somewhere in there, he knew, were the answers he needed, but finding them really was like retrieving a needle from a haystack.  
  
General Thornton's murder had been a headache the Hunters didn't need. While nothing except the murder method suggested that it was more than a simple homicide, Cain and Signas couldn't shake the feeling that it was something deeper than that. Thornton had been involved in a lot of operations with the Hunters. Had he been killed because of that? Was this really a Maverick attack after all, an attempt to get rid of someone who they knew was a major thorn in their sides? And if so, what did it mean? X had no idea, but since it was pretty much common knowledge that Sigma was alive, any little thing might well explode into something major, as X knew all too well.  
  
But that wasn't his investigation. Zero had been stuck with that. X was still pouring over the information about Seraph and the Maverick's new base, hoping to find some way to either pinpoint weaknesses in the fortress, or to at least disrupt Cyber Peacock's gross manipulation of the funds he was laundering quite illegally in cyberspace.  
  
Cyber Peacock. The name didn't really affect X as much as it did some of the other more ruthless Mavericks. The battle with Cyber didn't really stand out in X's mind. In the last war, X had not had to take out all eight Maverick barons himself, as usual. Zero had played a major role in taking down four of the Mavericks, making it easier for X to take care of the rest. But the battle with Cyber just seemed anticlimactic to X.  
  
It might well have been that X's mind was quite a bit frazzled when he'd engaged the bird in that death match. He'd been slogging through the depths of the virtual reality world that was cyberspace, and he was overwhelmed by the sheer inexplicability of the place. There was no up or down, no left or right, no right way to go or wrong way to go. Just lethal traps and disorienting tests, tests that though Cyber had taken to know exactly how to defeat X, hadn't done the Maverick any good.  
  
Actually, the more he thought of it, the more the battle did stand out. It had been short, just like most of the battles X had fought with higher ranked Mavericks, but it had worried X no small deal, especially at one point, where X had seriously thought he had lost. How could he have forgotten a feeling like that?  
  
He looked carefully around the unrealistic room, carefully noting every detail, from the strange wire frame walls to the giant eyeball type orb hanging in the background. He always did this when he entered a room where he was sure a major Maverick would attack him. More than once he had used his surroundings as the crucial factor in defeating the Maverick. This time, though, he admitted nervously, it didn't look like anything here could be trusted to even walk on, much less provide cover.  
  
There was a flash of light from the far right corner of the room, and the wire frame skeletal structure of his enemy materialized out of nowhere. There was a much brighter flash of light and a sound like a black hole regurgitating its contents, and then Cyber Peacock was hovering in the air, like the self proclaimed god of cyberspace that he was.  
  
"Your power," Cyber began finally, gazing down at X in quiet disbelief, "It's unbelievable…"  
  
X knew exactly what the Maverick had been talking about. Though he hated wasting time talking to his enemies-it gave the Maverick the opportunity to launch a surprise attack-the strange tests he'd endured in cyberspace had been odd enough to make him curious. "What have you been doing to me?"  
  
Peacock leaned back, crossing his gangly arms over his chest, hovering quite comfortably and effortlessly in the air. "I was ordered to test your abilities," he said simply. "I occupied this place to draw you in, and here you are. I must say," he said conspiratorially, "I can see how you defeated most of your opponents like you did. Your results make it easy to believe all the rumors spoken about you." His tone of voice turned slightly from nervously conversational to mildly threatening. X barely caught it. "You did very well on your regular tests, but…now its time for your final exam." And then he vanished.  
  
X stood there for a while, and then he blinked. It was the only logical thing he could think of to do at that time. Cyber Peacock had more or less begun the battle, and then he disappeared. The only other person who'd done that was-  
  
STING CHAMELEON! That crafty lizard who'd disappeared and taken X by such surprise that-  
  
He rolled to the side just in time as Cyber materialized behind him, tail feathers twisted so they stuck out on both sides of his body like a bunch of green swords. He propelled himself up into the air as soon as he teleported in, meaning to slice X in half, but since the Hunter had already taken action, the attack was unsuccessful. X sprung off the ground and let loose a blast from his arm cannon before he came down, but Cyber wasn't there anymore.  
  
"Excellent reflexes," his voice echoed throughout the room, putting X immediately on guard, "I should have kept that in mind. But I don't see any reason to keep playing games." The Maverick rematerialized at the far right corner of the room again, tail feathers spread out, hovering in the air like a god, as before. He thrust his arms out towards X even as the champion Hunter was charging a big shot in his buster. A target locked onto X, another wonder of cyberspace, much like the ones that had been on him during his "tests". X didn't wait to see what that meant, and let his blast sail through the air at the enemy. A mass of energies sprang from the tip of Cyber's middle tail feather, though, and took the form of a little missile. It mixed badly with the oncoming plasma, and both blasts went up in smoke.  
  
By the time X was recovering, there was a whole swarm of heat seeking energy missiles coming at him. He dodged frantically, but while he was able to confuse some of them, he certainly couldn't get away from all of them. They pelted his body with such explosive force that he thought they were tearing right through him, and he couldn't even line up a shot to return fire with.  
  
Mind hazy, pain receptors screaming, damage receptors on red alert, X desperately tried to think of a way out. The idea came as randomly and thankfully as most of them did, the wild ideas that let X win all his battles, only the more he thought of it, this one wasn't so wild.  
  
He upgraded the Soul Body program in his mind and fired his blaster like he would for a normal shot. Instead, however, a rainbow clone of X appeared, sprinting slightly away from X. Cyber Peacock's Aiming Lasers immediately locked onto the decoy X, sparing the real X any harm. Cyber stared briefly in absolute confusion, and by the time he realized what was happening, the real X had air-dashed up to him, planted his arm cannon on the bird's chest, and fired at point blank.  
  
Cyber Peacock collapsed to the floor, all his active Aiming Lasers vanishing in a fuzzy shower of sparks. X's boots clanked to the floor after his victim, and they both stared at each other in respectful silence. Finally Cyber, clutching the gaping, bloody hole in his torso, gave X one last defiant glare before collapsing in death.  
  
Cyberspace seemed to flicker and grow dull, as though mourning its fallen master, however temporary a master he'd been. X had seen enough movies to know that when the environment started grieving, it was time to get the hell out of there. He switched on his teleporter, which had been specially equipped to take him out of cyberspace, and vanished in his familiar blue haze, leaving the defeated Maverick to rest in his grieving kingdom.  
  
A little longer, X knew, and the Aiming Lasers would have done him in. Using the heat of the Soul Body to draw the lasers' attention had been great improvisation on his part, the kind that gave him the edge in most of his battles. He wondered, though, what would happen if he had to fight Cyber again. He severely doubted someone as crafty as Cyber would make the same mistakes twice.  
  
Margaret and Susan Thornton entered a car guarded by no less than five Hunters, two of which entered the car after them. The overwhelmed widow and her daughter were being taken to what the Hunters called a safe house, where they would be protected by Hunters specially trained for the job.  
  
Zero let out a very long sigh as he watched them depart the MHHQ from the window of his second floor office. Here was where he stored most of his files and important information about the Hunters in general, like Unit listings and the names of all who had enlisted in their forces. But today, this had been where he and one of the Hunter's resident shrinks had spoken with the Thorntons.  
  
All that they had accomplished was to make the two women cry, Zero reflected angrily. They were still too overwhelmed to be of much help, especially the wife, but the daughter, Susan, had been able to think clearly for a while, and he'd decided, to his dismay, that she really didn't know any more than anyone else did at this time. It had been a waste of time that had simply made a hard time worse.  
  
Zero could sympathize easily with those confronted with death, because he himself had been exposed to far too much of it. He'd known many a man who'd gone mad because of experiences similar to some of those he'd endured, and he often wondered why he himself had avoided a fate like that.  
  
His mind froze on that thought. Those who had gone mad…who had cracked under the extreme pressure. It was not dishonorable to him anymore. He didn't blame those who killed themselves out of desperation anymore, or those who simply could not handle the physical and mental pain. Lots of people he knew had either experienced or witnessed that, and the name that chose to pop up in his mind now was that of Gradient.  
  
Gradient would always stand out in Zero's memory as being someone worthy of immense respect, in addition to being a victim of the ultimate irony. During his service, Gradient had seen many of his own friends die, go mad, or experience extreme physical or mental agonies, and he'd never abandoned a single one. He himself knew much of what they suffered, and whenever Zero thought of his old friend, he could easily picture Gradient walking among the wounded, the disturbed, or the dying, trying to help wherever he could, because for him the war had been personal, for reasons Zero had never figured out. Gradient had shown a deep love for his Reploid brethren, so much that Zero didn't know why Gradient hadn't been a Maverick, and tried to take the world for the species he loved. But Gradient had been a Hunter, and Zero was glad for that fact. The irony was that Gradient had become a victim to what he had so often fought against: desperation.  
  
Zero let out a frustrated sigh, retreating from the window and sinking into his chair. Why had he allowed himself to think of Gradient? Finally now, with the Olympiad's passing, memories of Mea were starting to recede back into their cage, somewhere in the back of his mind, and he was almost getting his good mood back. But now the mood was shot to hell.  
  
"What's wrong with me all of a sudden…?" he asked the thin air, "Why am I so damn depressed all the time?" He knew, of course. It was peacetime.  
  
In wartime, everyone knew what they had to do. There were no questions, no suspicions, and ironically much less paranoia, at least for Zero. Peacetime, on the other hand, was something he had always hated. Peace was just an illusion, after all, that people used to blind the world, and make them soft for the next wartime. Peace was an empty promise, because while it offered everything people wanted, the jaws of war were always lurking, ready to betray those who had fallen into the spell of peace, chomping hard on the throats of the unprepared. Zero was always prepared. Everyone wondered why he was so nervous during peacetime, why he expected something to happen at any time. He wondered why they DIDN'T. It always happened, right when everyone was relaxing and starting to fully enjoy the peace, and as per course, the softened and the weak were destroyed, and the strong came out on top.  
  
He didn't always think this way. There was a time, not so long ago, when he could enjoy peace, and make the most out of it. He'd have fun with his friends, he'd find entertainment in any situation, and he'd basically enjoy life until it was time to go back out and fight another war.  
  
So why had his mind changed like this…? Well, had it even changed at all? Were those thoughts just the result of his current depression, a depression brought on by the deaths of Colonel, Iris, and all his other friends that had perished in Repliforce's War? He knew he had to move on, but he just couldn't snap himself out of it.  
  
Hell, he thought, why CAN'T I enjoy peace? What's stopping me? I've become, for lack of better term, a robot. There's no meaning for me anymore…well, piss on that. I'll find some meaning. It can't be that hard. I've just gotta stop moping around this place…gotta get out somewhere. Maybe hit the bar with the team…hmm, why not. Screw tonight's training, we'll go get plastered instead. I don't think they'll have a problem with THAT.  
  
"It's not going to be as hard as we thought," said Storm Eagle, "Not hard at all."  
  
Sigma raised an eyebrow as he strode down the hallways of his fortress, the avian keeping step only barely. Few could match Sigma's impressive military stride. "What exactly did Gravity Beetle say about it?"  
  
"All the parts we need for the Gallagher airship," Storm continued, a little winded, "Are actually fairly easy to get. Some are pretty expensive, he says, but with Cyber Peacock's Internet funding schemes, 'Seraph' will be able to buy them without a problem. Gravity is gonna make a full list and send it to Cyber so he knows exactly what to look for."  
  
"Well then," Sigma said thoughtfully, "I guess the only problem now is putting the damned thing together. But Revolver said he'd be right on schedule, so there shouldn't be too much of a problem."  
  
"Right, sir…" Storm was out of breath. Sigma finally stopped and gave the bird a chance to catch his breath, rolling his eyes in irritation.  
  
"Is that all, then?"  
  
"No," Storm shook his head, regaining his composure, "There's one more thing. Revolver told me that he knew where to find one of the most crucial parts to the Gallagher, but there was apparently some complication in getting it-"  
  
"That's the generator, right?"  
  
"Yes, sir…the only one who we can find who might have a suitable copy is-"  
  
"Grizzly Slash," Sigma finished instantly, "I'm many steps ahead of you, Storm. Grizzly hangs out in the 12th District, does he not?"  
  
"Yes, yes he does…"  
  
"Well, then let us set up a meeting."  
  
"'Us', sir?"  
  
"Yes, us. Grizzly and I go way back, believe it or not. He actually supplied our army during the first war with a ton of black market weapons, but the Hunters never found out about that. I'd like to see him again."  
  
The proposition just wasn't clicking in Storm's head, which was obvious by the gaping stare he gave his commander. "Sir, that's, uh, risky. Very risky."  
  
"What?" Sigma laughed, "You think someone is going to attack us? X and Zero have defeated me, Storm, not their underlings. They won't be THAT stupid."  
  
"Still…well never mind, then." Though it was clear that he still had reservations.  
  
Sigma continued his stroll towards his quarters, leaving Storm Eagle to frown at the ground. It had been a long time since he'd got out of this dreary base and had some fun. He was looking forward to it… 


	7. Alcohol and the People who Love It

1 Chapter Six-Alcohol and the People Who Love It  
  
General Klementi Ivan'ch Virdelko stared across the table at his guest, Colonel Alan Kitao, with a slightly bewildered look. Both men had at one point been prominent figures in the government of Megacity 5 (which had at one point been New York) until the Hunters took over the military, anyway. Now they were mostly political figures, even though politics didn't factor much into world policy when the Mavericks were involved. A random tidbit: the fact that Virdelko had the name of a Russian and that Kitao had both American and Oriental names didn't necessarily mean they were fully Russian or American or Oriental. Over the years, inter racial marriages had become so commonplace that the concept of "race" had started to cease to exist. All humans were multiracial nowadays, and those who weren't had a bad rap because of some extremist groups of these "Purebreds" who clung to violent views on race and discrimination.  
  
"What do you mean," Virdelko said in a horse, weak voice, "they have the list?"  
  
"I mean," Kitao repeated, "They have the list. Our sources have checked. Someone tapped into the top-secret files and downloaded a copy of the list. Whoever it was covered their tracks really damn well, but they couldn't erase the history from our programs. We don't know who it is, of course, but we know that it happened."  
  
Virdelko sank back in his chair, forced to face the worst-case scenario. "So they know all of us who are involved now. Great."  
  
"It explains Thornton's murder," Kitao pointed out unnecessarily, "And it indicates that they won't stop there. These guys are bloodthirsty as Jack the Ripper."  
  
"Thank you for that nugget of joy," Virdelko chastised, "Now what do you suggest we do about it?"  
  
"Why," Kitao said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "We get the hell out of here, and wait for the Hunters to take these madmen out!"  
  
"Oh, that's nice. What if word gets out among the Hunters? Can you imagine what they'd think if they knew?"  
  
"We don't have to tell them anything about it," Kitao insisted, "We just have to tell them that a crack team of Mavericks is on the loose, and they're really friggin dangerous."  
  
"They've got Sigma to worry about," Virdelko snapped, still slightly overwhelmed, "Do you really think they'll care more about some random Mavericks than they will about HIM?"  
  
"We can't handle this on our own, Klementi!" Kitao burst out, finally losing his composure, "We'll all be murdered, just like Thornton! Think of your goddamn family! What's to stop these guys from killing them, too? They could kill them, those innocents, just to get at us!" He stopped, letting a heavy silence hang in the small conference room for a few endless seconds. Then he drew a breath and continued, slightly more in control than he had been. "Besides, we'll have to tell them anyway, some time."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Come on, Klementi…these guys are bloodthirsty maniacs as of now. Do you really think they'll stop with us?"  
  
Virdelko propped his elbows op on the table and rested his chin in his hands, staring through the table. "Go on."  
  
"Yeah," Kitao nodded, falling into a daze himself, "They're highly trained, highly knowledgeable, and extremely pissed. They're probably integrated into Sigma's current army, meaning they have Maverick heavy weaponry at their disposal." Kitao took a deep breath and finally said it, said what both had been afraid to say. "They may well try to kill all the humans in the city." It might seem like an obvious statement, but remember, these people lived in a time where a maniac Reploid was always promising to eliminate every human in the world, but never did it. Besides, lately Sigma's efforts had been uncoordinated and had focused more on his hatred towards X and Zero than humans. The Mavericks Kitao and Virdelko were discussing, however, were different.  
  
"We don't know that," Virdelko said immediately, trying to maintain a hold on the situation, "We don't know their motives."  
  
"Whatever," Kitao said with a shrug, "I still say we need to leave Megacity 5. Fast."  
  
Virdelko closed his eyes, lost in thought. He didn't want to run away. He really, really didn't want to admit he was terrified of these people. Most of all, he really didn't want to run away and then, if the Mavericks did destroy all the humans in Megacity 5, have to live with himself for letting those people die. Because these guys were his responsibility. He'd created them, and now he had to destroy them. It was his duty. Kitao wanted to leave because of fear. So did Virdelko, but he had another reason to help prod him down the Run Away path: he couldn't stop these guys if he was dead, and here he was a sitting duck.  
  
"All right," he said, finally, and proceeded to deliver a line that somewhat confused Kitao. "We'll leave the city. But we're not gonna run away."  
  
Nesting in a bar down in one of the more unpleasant parts of Megacity 5 were two Reploids happily drinking themselves into oblivion. Sort of. They had developed somewhat of an immunity to alcohol after their thirty thousandth beers. At the same time, however, they were prime sources of information, though they didn't really know it.  
  
Pierre the skunk turned to ask the bartender for another drink, and spoke in a voice that was surprisingly not heavily accented French, but rather a gruff, rude voice. He looked like an elegant French painter, skunk style, but talked like Blackbeard. An equal contradiction was his eternal pal, Ludwig. Ludwig was a big gorilla Reploid whose arms pulsated with unbelievable amounts of synthetic muscle, but he was not a dumb brute. Rather he was a dumb pacifist. Actually, the easiest way to describe both would be: Not Rocket Scientists.  
  
Pierre downed half his fresh glass in a single gulp and swung his furry head around to glare at the bartender. "This beer…it tastes like rat piss!"  
  
The bartender narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.  
  
"Dude," drawled Ludwig, "You like, always say that."  
  
"I know!" Pierre replied with a heavy nod, polishing off the rest of the beer afterwards. "You know why? Cause it tastes like rat piss!"  
  
"Dude, then like…why do you drink it?"  
  
Pierre had to think about that one. He thought and thought, and finally developed a primitive notion of a solution. Pierre's problem solving skills weren't exactly paramount, you see, but he was pretty proud of this one. "Bartender!" he beckoned, "I want some more!" The bartender started to comply, and Pierre pasted a triumphant grin on his face.  
  
"Whoaaaa," Ludwig said in a reverent tone, amazed at how brilliant Pierre was. You had to admire those skunks.  
  
The bartender filled the glass, muttering obscenities under his breath. Try as he might, he just could not get rid of these two. Actually, he didn't mind the gorilla, but the skunk was just plain annoying. The bartender never had figured out why someone would build a skunk Reploid. His only guess was, a bad joke. The bartender returned the glass to the skunk and tried to sidle off before the vile derelict could comment on the alcohol's flavor, but of course he didn't make it.  
  
"This STILL tastes like rat piss!" Pierre bellowed, "What the hell is your problem, you shit monkey?!"  
  
"Ha ha!" Ludwig laughed, automatically. He thought "shit monkey" was hilarious.  
  
The bartender pretended to ignore the skunk, but was in fact thinking of the best limbs to rip off of the vulgar Reploid.  
  
"My GOD!" Pierre continued ranting, "This rat piss didn't come from a normal rat, either."  
  
Ludwig leaned forward to hear better, because Pierre was generally right about these sort of things.  
  
"This came from a…a…a super king kamayamaya rat! It came from the biggest, most diseased, leprous rat in all of the world!" He whirled to face the bartender, who was washing mugs. "Hey! What kind of rats do you have crawling around here, anyway?!"  
  
The bartender continued washing, thinking how funny it would be if Pierre's head would just randomly explode.  
  
For a while, it was quiet, and when Pierre realized that he sprang into action. Pierre could never let there be quietness in a room. He was the bane of librarians everywhere. "Bloody, bleemin' filth…I can't STAND this stuff anymore!" With that, he hurled the empty mug at the doorway, where it shattered, bits and pieces of the glass drizzling down on the alabaster plated shoulders of Archer, the leader of Unit 5, Maverick Hunters, who had just walked through the doorway.  
  
"Nice to see you, too…" Archer said in a slightly unnerved tone.  
  
"Archer!!!" Ludwig exclaimed, springing to his feet in a bulky dark blur, "Look, Pierre! It's Archer!" Ludwig even pointed at Archer, so Pierre would not miss him. Ludwig always went the extra mile.  
  
"By the waters of Babylon, it IS ye!" Pierre leapt to his feet and strode over to Archer, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet. He shook the Hunter's hand enthusiastically. Ludwig, not wanting to be outdone, followed his friend and shook Archer's other hand enthusiastically, very enthusiastically. This made Archer nervous, because whenever big old Ludwig shook his hand, Archer was afraid he'd forget to let go and rip Archer's arm out of its socket when he pulled away. "Sorry about the glass," Pierre explained, releasing Archer's hand and glaring towards the bartender, "He serves rat piss in this bar."  
  
The bartender had decided that Pierre's head exploding was too good for him. Now he had moved on to just the skunk's nose randomly bursting into flames.  
  
"Yeah!" Ludwig added. He was still shaking Archer's hand, even though Pierre had already let go and sat down.  
  
"Can I have my hand back?" Archer asked calmly. He was used to this. Every time, Pierre talked about rat piss, and Ludwig forgot to give him back his hand.  
  
"Oh!" Ludwig exclaimed, letting go. "Sorry about that!" He pointed at a free chair in the middle of where he and Pierre sat. "Look, it's a chair! You can sit in it."  
  
"Thank you," Archer said politely, taking a seat, "How are you, gentlemen?"  
  
"All your base are belong to us," Pierre said automatically. Archer stared. He still didn't get that.  
  
"Ha ha!" Ludwig laughed. He thought that was hilarious.  
  
"Right…" The Hunter looked to Pierre. He got most of his information from Pierre, not surprisingly. "I guess you know why I'm here."  
  
"Of course!" Pierre nodded, "I got lots to tell ya! But first…hey, bartender! Bring me some more!"  
  
The bartender grumbled and started for the beer machine, almost stepping on a rat that was skittering by. He stopped and chewed on an idea, then decided, what the hell. He grabbed the rat, whisked up a beer mug, and went into a back room.  
  
"What do you want to know, Archer?" Ludwig asked enthusiastically.  
  
"And do you got the stuff?" Pierre said, insinuatingly.  
  
"Of course, I got the stuff…" Archer insisted, "I know how it goes."  
  
"Good," Pierre reminded him anyway, "It's hard to come by, the stuff is. Aye, it's bleedin' impossible nowadays. But it's so worth it when we get it." He dreamily plugged one nostril and snorted through the other, imagining he was making use of the stuff. "Ah, yes, the stuff."  
  
"Bestest powder in the world," Ludwig agreed.  
  
"I got the best source," Archer insisted, "We never run out at the HQ."  
  
Both drunkards dreamed briefly about a place with that much of the stuff.  
  
"Anyhow," Archer snapped them out of it, "The reason I'm here is about the death of that guy, Thornton."  
  
"Ah yeah, Thornton," Pierre nodded as he grabbed the mug from the bartender, who retreated rather quickly to the safety of Behind The Bar, though no one noticed. "I figured you'd want somethin' on that shit monkey."  
  
"Ha ha!" Ludwig laughed. But he felt stupid because the other two looked at him in annoyance, so he kept quiet.  
  
"Yeah, so," Archer continued, "Any suspicious characters running around, any leads you might know of…?"  
  
"Yes, in fact," Pierre said, taking a good swig. "THIS TASTES LIKE RAT PISS!" he bellowed, "CAN'T YOU TAKE A HINT?! YOUR BEER SUCKS!"  
  
The bartender had to go into the back room, because he was howling with laughter. Pierre scrunched up his nose in confusion. He stared at the drink, but didn't get it, so he just continued talking.  
  
"Anyhow, you got any suspects in particular, Archie?"  
  
Archer groaned inwardly. He hated that name. "Not really."  
  
"There was this guy," Ludwig offered helpfully, not able to stay quiet after all, "And he had these lips, and they were moving!"  
  
"What Ludwig wants to say," Pierre clarified warily, "Is that there was a guy talking."  
  
"To another person!" Ludwig added with extreme enthusiasm.  
  
"Is that so," Archer said quietly, already feeling a migraine coming on. "Why were they suspicious to you?"  
  
"Cause," Pierre said simply, "They were just schlepping through the alley, aye. And they were whispering and talking like conspirators, in true shit monkey fashion."  
  
Archer didn't know why whispering made them eligible for shit monkey status, but he nodded anyway. Ludwig was trying hard not to laugh.  
  
"One of these guys," Pierre continued, "Was like a jungle commando. I call him GI Joe, because he had the whole camouflage thing going. The other was a short blue Reploid I see in town a lot. I think he's got somethin' to do with that Seraph company. Anyhow, they're just yakking, and I hear the words 'list' and 'hacker'. That sound helpful?"  
  
Archer didn't know. No one had told him about the list hacked from the computer networks of Hunter HQ. If they had, lots of things might have changed here and now, but they didn't.  
  
"I don't like hackers," Ludwig said, shaking his big head. Archer looked at him as if waiting to hear a reason why Ludwig didn't like hackers. Ludwig stared in total confusion.  
  
"Also," Pierre mused, "For even more of 'the stuff' I can give you some even better information."  
  
"Deal," Archer said instantly. The stuff was easy for him to come by, because he had contact with a whole network of dealers.  
  
"Okay. There's this guy…"  
  
"A BIG guy!" Ludwig interjected.  
  
"A guy who used to work for the Seraph Corporation before they laid him off…"  
  
"Almost as big as ME!" Ludwig insisted.  
  
"A guy who was in another bar lately, and let slip that he was really nervous about some meeting in the 12th district quarry tonight…"  
  
"All right, all right, he was BIGGER than me!" Ludwig conceded.  
  
"A guy called Grizzly Slash."  
  
Archer almost sprang out of his seat. He DID know about Grizzly Slash's connections to the Hunters in revealing the location of Sigma's base, and if Grizzly was worried about meeting someone…could it be the people he'd ratted out? That would make HIM nervous, Archer reflected.  
  
"Now!" Pierre said, in what could be considered businesslike, "Lets have the stuff."  
  
Archer glanced around to make sure no one was looking, and retrieved the sacred powder, which was helpfully encased in sticks so they could be snorted with ease. He laid them down in front of the two informants, who gazed in absolute reverence. So perfect. So gorgeous. And in fun fruit flavors.  
  
"Pixie Stiiiiicks," they chanted in unison, snatching up their shares.  
  
Archer shook his head, as per course. He didn't know who had began the ritual of snorting Pixie Sticks, but the more he thought about it, he didn't really want to.  
  
"Ah, Pixie Sticks never did go good with beer," Pierre said, polishing off the mug so he could get down to business. "MY GOD, this tastes like rat piss!"  
  
"I've always wanted to know," Archer said thoughtfully, "How would you know that?"  
  
"I…" Pierre had to think about that one. Once again, his problem solving skills came through. "It's just a SAYING, you know, like the cow jumps over the moon. I've never drunk real rat piss."  
  
"Is that a fact…?" said the bartender. He couldn't help himself.  
  
Pierre looked from the bartender to what was left of his drink, and he got it. He leapt to his feet and shrieked bloody murder, throwing the glass at the bartender, who was already moving for his double barrel shotgun. Archer knew a crisis when he saw it, and promptly got the hell out of Dodge, followed closely by Ludwig, who was still offering helpful information about how big Grizzly Slash was, and finally by Pierre, who mainly just didn't want to get shot.  
  
"It tasted BETTER THAN YOUR REAL BEER!" the skunk bellowed as the door slammed in his face.  
  
At a slightly more respectable bar, Unit 0 was having a considerably better time. The bartender at Heaven's Gates, whose name was Vornozeh, knew these Hunters well, because some were his best customers, namely Sol, Delates, and Zero himself, though Zero had been a little secluded lately. Now, however, the whole lot was very upbeat, while amazingly not totally smashed.  
  
Sol and Delates were busy planning some practical joke in the corner of the bar, and Zero himself was speaking to Vornozeh. The rest of the Unit carried on in somewhat restrained fashion, knowing that they were still on duty tomorrow morning.  
  
"We need something interesting," Zero was saying, "Something that'll really get to them." He was referring to the "newbies", those who would be inaugurated into his Unit. Unit 0 was famous for its hazing rituals. "Sol and Delates can't figure anything out for once."  
  
"You're kidding," Vornozeh said in some surprise, though you'd only know it if you'd talked to him for many years, as Zero had. Everything Vornozeh said generally came out in the same strange tone…thoughtful, yet disinterested at the same time. "There's got to be SOMETHING they haven't done. High wire across the central courtyard?"  
  
Zero shook his head. "Cain read off a list of things he'd shove up my ass if I pulled anything like that, after what happened to the guy in Unit 12."  
  
"That guy was a pansy, anyway," Vorno said. "Hmm, how about the Burlap Episode?" He referred to a famous incident in Hunter folklore. A Hunter named Burlap had organized a group of hazers who stole all the clothing from the newbies' rooms, and the newbies had been forced to prowl around the headquarters at night to get them back, while still naked. Cain had demoted Burlap to a janitor after that, and while Zero doubted the scientist would do the same to him, he wasn't dumb enough to test Cain's wrath like that.  
  
"I think not," Zero shook his head, "I like breathing."  
  
"Heh heh heh, well, at least you've got your mood back. I was getting worried about ya for a while." He shook his finger at the crimson Reploid. "It's not HEALTHY to wallow in a bottomless pit of angst and self loathing. Just ask Sol."  
  
"I HEARD THAT," Sol called from across the room.  
  
"What are you gonna do?" Vornozeh asked with a superior laugh, "You can't touch me, copper. I'm union."  
  
Sol shook his head, laughing, and went back to plotting ways to terrorize newbies.  
  
"I'll be fine," Zero said with a chuckle at the union crack, "I just spent too much time around the workplace." He grinned wickedly, spreading his arms out to include the whole bar. "Needed to come home for a bit."  
  
Vornozeh let out a laugh, which was fairly odd for him, and poured a drink for himself and Zero. "So how's X doing? I haven't heard from the little guy in ages."  
  
"X is odd," Zero said with a frown. "He loves peacetime, and claims he wants to enjoy it to the fullest. But he never goes to a bar during peacetime. No, it takes a war to get that boy in here, and that's the worst time…" He broke into laughter, and Vornozeh with him.  
  
On X's last visit, during the fourth war, he'd had one too many vodka gimlets, and a decorative nutcracker that Vornozeh had set out for Christmas suddenly transformed, right before X's eyes, into Magma Dragoon. To this day, X claimed that Magma Dragoon was in that bar, and that he was beating the crap out of Dragoon, not a helpless little nutcracker doll. Even after Vornozeh had sent the blue hero a bill for the broken doll, X insisted he was in the right. Zero wished alcohol would delude HIM like that. He'd have SO much fun.  
  
"Oi…" Vornozeh muttered when he got a hold of himself, "Those were the days…back when everybody was a soldier, and not a politician."  
  
Zero understood. Lately, in the dwelling peace, people had been up for trying to restore governments, economies, and trying to "return things to normal", and lots of humans and Reploids had fallen under that spell, creating small factions within the Hunter organization.  
  
"It's a shame," Zero agreed, "But the politicians are nothing without the soldiers, and we still have plenty of those."  
  
Vornozeh nodded. "Keep as many as you can. When the soldiers are around, there's your normalcy. When only the politicians are left…there's your war."  
  
THIS PROGRAM HAS PERFORMED AN ILLEGAL OPERATION AND WILL BE SHUT DOWN. IF THE PROBLEM PERSISTS, CONTACT YOUR PROGRAM VENDOR.  
  
Douglas bellowed obscenities. He hated computers. He really, really, really hated them. Machines he liked, mechas he liked, big guns and weapons of mass destruction, all those he liked. Computers he hated. This was ironic because computers played a big part in everything else he created, but that didn't stop him from hating them. He really didn't understand what was so illegal about whatever operation the computer was performing. Was there some Computer Constitution floating around there that he didn't know about? Or was it a conspiracy? Yeah, that was it. A conspiracy to piss off Reploids like him and force them into insanity and hatred towards humans, who had created computers. Douglas let out a short bark of a laugh and rebooted his program; he'd found the origin of the Maverick Virus.  
  
"Douglas!" said Archer as he entered the lab, "I need you to check up on something for me!"  
  
"I'm busy," Douglas said simply, not in a good mood.  
  
"It's about Sigma," Archer insisted.  
  
Douglas frowned. He was working on Sigma, too, and he didn't want to be distracted. But he didn't really mind Archer, and the guy usually had a good reason for what he did. "Fine. What's the deal?"  
  
"I need you to use the satellite program. Focus it on the 12th district quarry and the area around it."  
  
"All right," Douglas said, doing so. "Mind telling me why I'm doing this?"  
  
"I think there's gonna be some Maverick activity there soon," Archer explained, "I've placed my Unit on alert."  
  
Douglas understood. He didn't know why Archer thought there would be Maverick activity, but if they managed to catch a Maverick they could learn valuable information about Sigma's plans. "All right, 12th district quarry…I detect a bunch of humans, probably the workers. They're leaving, probably because the workday is ending. Big surprise."  
  
"What Reploids?" Archer persisted.  
  
"One," Douglas confirmed, zooming in. "He's not doing anything, really. Maybe he's the night shift? Hell if I know-hey…that looks kinda like…"  
  
"Grizzly Slash?" Archer finished. Douglas gave him a How-The-Hell look, and looked back at the screen to confirm it.  
  
"Yeah, Grizzly Slash. How'd you know?"  
  
Archer inhaled deeply; Pierre had been right. Now who was Grizzly going to meet? Why the hell was he so suspicious, anyway? Arms dealers like Grizzly met with Mavericks all the time.  
  
Hell, he knew it was more than that. He couldn't explain how he knew, but he knew. Something was gonna happen there. Something big. And it would happen very soon. 


	8. Midnight Mission

1 Chapter Seven: Midnight Mission  
  
Grizzly Slash let out a heavy sigh, his massive shoulders drooping under the weight of his mental burden. A slight but steady rain was falling, splattering onto Grizzly's armor and making almost musical metallic pitters and patters. The arms dealer's eyes were frantically searching the 12th district quarry for any sign of activity. All the workers had gone home already. Grizzly had just told the supervisor that he was new on the night security shift, and had encountered no problems about remaining in the quarry after hours. No one asked; no one cared.  
  
Grizzly really wished they had cared. He would trade his left arm- which was a pretty big arm, mind you-to stop this night from happening. Because, if what he feared was true, he may lose a lot more than an arm.  
  
Sigma had contacted his old friend Grizzly Slash earlier in the day and asked him to be among the stones and mining equipment of the 12th district quarry that night, which he now was. Grizzly hadn't refused; it was not often that one refused Sigma. The Maverick Grand Commander had seemed pretty cordial when they had spoken via Grizzly's wirephone, and showed no sign of warning or insinuation. He just wanted to buy something. But, since Commander Sigma didn't often just drop by to buy something, Grizzly thought it was slightly more important. Could it be that Sigma had found out that he, Grizzly, had provided the Maverick Hunters with the information needed to tie the Seraph Corporation to the Mavericks? If so, Grizzly was dead. He knew that, of course. If not, and Sigma was totally oblivious, as he should be, Grizzly reflected hopefully, then he would get out of this without a scratch. He reminded himself that he couldn't look too nervous or guilty. Sigma shouldn't have any reason to suspect him, unless the bastard Hunters had called him up and told him personally, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about. In fact, Sigma may not even know that the Hunters knew where his base was! Yes, that was it! There was no way he could know.  
  
Still, Grizzly was pretty nervous. The large, imposing bear linked his hands behind his head in a gesture that relaxed him, but looked utterly ridiculous, because one of Grizzly's hands was a typical five fingered hand, and the other had five long, massive claws. He never cut himself with the claws, but he was still always careful.  
  
He heard a noise, a shrill beep. He snatched up a small device that looked almost like a handheld TV screen, but was in fact a portable radar. He'd set up the radar system around the quarry, so it'd alert him when someone showed up. He saw many blips, and with each of them came another shrill beep.  
  
Grizzly sucked in a very deep breath-the Mavericks had come.  
  
Gredam walked with Sigma, both strolling into the quarry with precise military strides. Sigma was faster, having a greater stride, but Gredam kept up nicely, not winded in the least. In front of them were three of the soldiers they'd brought with them. All of the new recruits had been trained personally by Malevex, Teytha, and Gredam, and so knew a lot about covert ops. The soldiers Sigma brought with him tonight were all elites, the best of the new training program. Behind the two leaders were the inseparable Bit and Byte, two other high-ranking Mavericks who were brutally efficient at the jobs they did. Bit and Byte led the mass of ten other elites, who made up most of the security detail, and behind even them, Malevex and Teytha were bringing up the rear, whispering quietly.  
  
"I hate this," Malevex said for the fortieth time that night.  
  
"You worry two much," Teytha countered blandly, also for the fortieth time.  
  
He shrugged. "Someone has to." He scanned the entire surrounding area nervously, as though he expected something to leap out at them at any minute.  
  
"Okay," Teytha said at last, "Now you're just being paranoid."  
  
"Why shouldn't I? We're waltzing around Hunter territory with the leader of the Mavericks among us, and we're moving in this big mass." He shook his head in disgust. "Look at the size of this group! Can we say 'conspicuous target' boys and girls?"  
  
"We're fine," Teytha insisted, "Even if someone did come at us, there's too many of us here for them to beat. We'd be on them in a flash."  
  
"Hmph…" He drifted back into silence, absently fiddling with the settings on the large, sleek sniper rifle he was carefully carrying. The Maverick was fairly well armed. In addition to the rifle, he wore a tight metal belt with enough slots and holsters for his preferred arsenal. In the holster near his left hip there was a gold crested lightsaber, one of his most prized possessions. He was pretty skilled in its usage, though he generally only used it when he had to. In the right holster was a big pistol that fired very powerful lasers that were capable of doing lethal damage to an unarmored human and very serious damage to Reploids. It was standard issue among the Mavericks, and while not as powerful as Malevex's sniper rifle, it was a very trusty weapon. He only made use of one of the slots on his belt for accessories, filling it with a spare battery cartridge for his guns.  
  
Teytha, on the other hand, wasn't very fond of long-range weapons, though she did keep a machine pistol in her own holster. The blasts from this gun weren't extremely strong, but they came in such a torrent that they generally proved to be quite a problem for whoever was hit. In the other holster she too carried a lightsaber. It was a sub issue weapon, and her swordsmanship was excellent. That wasn't it, though. On her back, fastened into a slot built into her armor, was a second lightsaber, this one with a striking blue handle and silver trim; Teytha was able to use two lightsabers efficiently at the same time. As if that wasn't enough, the lithe assassin also had two energy daggers fitted into the spare slots on her belt.  
  
Gredam, way up ahead of them, was a one-man army. He carried a very powerful, very expensive assault rifle that doubled as a grenade launcher, though the grenade ammo was always sparse. He carried his own pistol and had several of the fragmentation grenades that their group had been supplied with. His really deadly weapon was not something he carried, though; it was built in. The armor around his broad shoulders could slide back and reveal launchers that could send a widespread volley of heat seeking missiles flying around. Gredam didn't like to use this attack method, though, because he hated reloading his launchers.  
  
The soldiers accompanying them all carried an energy knife and a pistol as side arms and used a standard assault rifle as a main weapon. They each had two frag grenades to use if they had to. Bit and Byte used their built in weapons, like most Maverick bosses tended to, Bit's being a variety of energy attacks from the gem on his forehead and Byte's being a whole lot of land mines. Sigma himself just carried his lightsaber, since he wasn't planning on doing much fighting, and he wasn't much good with the handheld firearms, anyway.  
  
The group came to an abrupt halt when Sigma and Gredam caught sight of their target. Grizzly Slash's clawed hand flashed an "all clear" signal, and the Maverick group broke up. Sigma, Bit, Byte, and a cluster of the elites went towards Grizzly, while Gredam went back to his two comrades. The rest of the elites spread out along the perimeter of the quarry as rehearsed, awaiting further orders.  
  
"Practiced defense strategy still stands," Gredam declared, "We'll seed the entrances with remote mines. Some of these guys have the specific job of mining the place…Byte will help with that. Malevex, you find yourself a sniper nest and be ready." Malevex nodded simply, glancing at his weapon. "Teytha, you make sure the troops are in the right positions to both defend Sigma and ward off Hunter attack, then get towards the back of the quarry." Teytha nodded in turn, and Gredam surveyed the quarry one more time. "I think we're ready," he finished, and that got nods from everybody.  
  
Douglas stared blankly at the computer screen for a minute before sitting bolt upright in his chair and beckoning to Archer. "We got company here, pal."  
  
"What's that?" Archer asked curiously. He wheeled his chair over to where Douglas was sitting and beheld the live image of the 12th district quarry.  
  
"Lots of Reploids heading in through the east side," Douglas explained, pointing towards the little blob of huddled figures on the screen, "Quite a few of the buggers. Dunno what they could be up to so late at night, but…Grizzly Slash is still there, and from the looks of things…" Douglas zoomed in once again on Grizzly, who appeared to be trying to compose himself for something. "He's still pretty nervous."  
  
Archer nodded, looking back towards the group of Reploids. "Can you center in on them?"  
  
Douglas nodded, and sent a message through the computer. Up in outer space, a satellite twitched ever so slightly and its camera focused in on the Reploid group. The Hunters had finally gotten a satellite into the air, and used it mainly for reconnaissance purposes such as this. It was hell for the Mavericks to find a place where the Hunters couldn't spy on them, but of course, they didn't know that the Hunters knew where they would be. Without Archer's information, the Hunters would never have known about the meeting in the 12th district quarry.  
  
"My god…" Archer breathed, looking directly at the tallest member of the Reploid group. He stood a few heads above most of the others, and was adorned in emerald armor and a flowing red cape. It was indeed Sigma, and he resembled his original form more than ever this time.  
  
"Sigma!" Douglas exploded, "Sigma's at the 12th district quarry!" He whirled to face Archer, his face a mask of shock. "How did you know?"  
  
"It doesn't matter," Archer insisted, pulling away from the computer screen, "Let's get Signas in here to see this, and in the mean time find X and Zero."  
  
"Zero's at a bar. Heaven's Gates, downtown."  
  
"I know the place. I'll get someone sent down there right away, right after I send Signas down here. Meantime, I'll ready as many Units as I can, 0 and 17 included." Archer took off out of the room and down the hall towards Signas's office. He'd known something big was going to happen, and quite frankly, he hated it when he was right.  
  
Vulcan was just about to hit the hay when Rykov came knocking on his door.  
  
"Vulcan!" he said fairly quietly as he walked in, "Get suited up with armor and your best weapons. We've got a mission!"  
  
Vulcan just stared from the desk where he'd been sorting out some of his personal files. "What?"  
  
"A mission," Rykov repeated. "Our unit and several others are assembling in the Briefing Room. Looks like a big one." He glanced at the clock, insinuatingly, and then back at Vulcan. "Get down there fast."  
  
Vulcan frowned and nodded, letting Rykov take his leave. The Hunter sat there for a few seconds before actually starting to prepare. He hadn't been on an actual mission yet, and the very pinnacle of a newbie's life was The First Mission. However, the way Rykov had called this "a big one" didn't settle well in Vulcan's stomach.  
  
He took his standard armor, a glittering suit of silver with jet- black trimmings, and dressed in full before leaving. He personally thought he looked unimpressive, though Krysta continually remarked that she thought he looked damn good in uniform. He didn't quite know what she meant, and he also didn't care enough to ask. As far as weapons, he just hoped that they'd give him something before they left, since all he owned personally was his lightsaber, a standard but sturdy model with a bronze hilt and a jade green blade, and the Hunters didn't issue weapons to their soldiers for them to personally keep. All weapons that were property of the Headquarters were, while assigned to their respective users, kept in training rooms. Vulcan's unit had yet to be supplied with permanent weapons, so he just headed down towards the Briefing Room, where he found Rykov and Krysta among the mass of assembled Hunters.  
  
"Told ya it was big," Rykov said simply, motioning around the room. Vulcan examined the different units present. His entire Unit had assembled, but Commander Archer was notably missing. Nearby he saw Harrier and Scythe looking cocky and neutral, respectively. Their Unit 7, led by Commander Mason, was also assembled in full. What surprised Vulcan to no end, and told him just how important this mission was, was the sight of some members of Unit 17.  
  
Then X himself came into the room with Grand Commander Signas, Chief Mechanic Douglas, and Commander Archer. Commander Mason quickly went to join them, and they moved off to a corner of the room where they could speak privately.  
  
"My god," Krysta breathed, "We've got all the top Hunters collaborating on this one? What's going on?"  
  
"Beats me…" Vulcan replied, trying to think to himself what could be happening. Perhaps another assassination? Had someone been killed, or was there some hostage crisis? Whatever it was it was big enough for all these Hunters…Rykov and Krysta realized the same thing.  
  
Harrier walked over to the group shortly after, his eyes ablaze with anticipation. "Can you guys believe it?" the sapphire Reploid began as soon as he reached them, "Our first mission is big enough that we're going with the best Hunters on the force!"  
  
"It is something," Rykov agreed, trying to share Harrier's enthusiasm, but not having much luck.  
  
"Just think," Harrier pressed, "Other Units get sent to yank cats out of trees or to stop a Maverick from robbing a grocery store, or something stupid like that." He extended his arms to include everyone in the room. "We, on the other hand, are like part of some invasion force!" On his face was a general longing for the battle he thought would come. Harrier lived for action, and though he'd never actually partaken in serious combat, he was quite confident he could not only take whatever was coming head on, but that he would enjoy every minute of it. Vulcan absorbed this with mixed emotions, opening his eyes to a new possibility. If there were that many Hunters going on this mission, then that meant it was probably dangerous. He glanced at Rykov and Krysta, wondering if they or anyone else in this room would possibly not return.  
  
Harrier, however, wasn't worried about it. He wished them good luck and returned to join the others in his Unit. Shortly after, Signas walked up to a podium at the center of the room, X and the other commanders sitting behind him. The other Hunters quieted down and took seats where they could find them.  
  
"As you might have gathered from the lateness of the hour and the amount of you here," Signas began, "We have a serious situation to handle. Units 3, 7, and 17 will proceed to the 12th district quarry, where they will rendezvous with Unit 0."  
  
"Unit 0?" Rykov, Vulcan, and Krysta mouthed to each other at the same time, each with a look of shock on their face and a growing sense of fear. Units 17 and 0…now it could be really dangerous.  
  
"You will be stopping a Maverick disturbance," Signas went on, "I won't say much else, but your commanders will be filling you in as you get there. Do exactly what they tell you to do. There's not much time, so I wish you luck. Godspeed." With that simple speech, Signas descended from the podium and the Units began to congregate.  
  
"Come on," Archer said as soon as he had his group together, "We're going to the garage. Douglas has transports prepared for us. I'll tell you everything on the way. Don't worry about weapons; we've got plenty for you. I know you're a little confused, but just deal with it for now." He turned and started towards the garage before anyone could ask him a question, but that was ok, because no one would have anyway.  
  
All Vornozeh could say was, they weren't drunk. Whenever Zero's crew came by his bar, they always got pretty hammered, but tonight they'd been fairly judicious about their alcohol consumption. The bartender had finally decided it was time to close up for the night and was kicking Unit 0 out when the messenger arrived. Zero went to talk to him right away…a guy as nervous as that messenger was not someone to ignore. Vornozeh could actually see the commander's face go blank for a few seconds. Something was up.  
  
"Thanks," Zero said to the messenger, scratching his head absently. He turned to face his curious unit. "Come on, guys. We've got a BIG mission to complete, down at the 12th district quarry." That was all it took for the gang to throw down whatever they were doing and file quickly outside to the transports they had taken to Heaven's Gates. Sol commented about having left their weapons back at the base, but the messenger insisted that they would have weapons for the Unit at the quarry.  
  
"What's up?" said Vornozeh without opening his mouth. His eyes said it all.  
  
So did Zero's, but he spoke anyway. "We're off to kill Sigma, Vorno. Wish us luck."  
  
Vornozeh blinked. "Good thing you guys aren't hammered."  
  
"Good to see you're still alive," Sigma said offhandedly while taking a luxurious stretch. "Four wars can be pretty hard to survive, eh?"  
  
Grizzly Slash shrugged uneasily. "I never did much fighting…else I'm sure I'd be out of the picture by now."  
  
Behind Sigma, his four elite guards were glancing nervously from side to side. Grizzly had chosen a good place for the meeting, a place that was pretty much concealed from view if you were on the outside of the quarry. The Hunters would actually have to invade in order to take any of them out, but they worried also about some of their friends who were working the perimeter. If the Hunters came, their friends would be the first to go.  
  
Bit, however, put on a show of faux nonchalance. Though he too was nervous, he'd never let these underlings see it. He, like his fellow Maverick Bosses, was often seen as a figure of authority. He'd never let a display of weakness tarnish that authority. His comrade Byte was currently aiding in setting mines along the perimeter near possible entry points. If nothing happened, Byte could deactivate them and remove them for use later. They had debated simply leaving the mines to blow up the workers the next day, but at this point they didn't really want to draw any major attention to themselves. For all their power, the Hunters were very lazy unless their enemies displayed a sufficient show of power, and they weren't ready to do that quite yet.  
  
"God," Sigma went on, "I'd forgotten what it was like to roam the city. I haven't been outside of a base in years."  
  
"Well, that's understandable…"  
  
"Something wrong, Grizzly? You look very nervous."  
  
Grizzly swore violently inside his head. He'd been trying to keep calm, but even though Sigma had said absolutely nothing about Grizzly's sellout, that still didn't mean he didn't know. But at least he had an excuse ready. "Not really. Just kinda weird meeting with you out in the open like this."  
  
Sigma nodded reply. "Like I said, it's been too long since I've seen the great outdoors, so to speak. So this is kind of like a little field trip for me. But I guess the longer we stand out here, the more chance we have of being brutally murdered, am I right?" Grizzly nodded to imply that Sigma was very right. "All right then." Sigma smiled inwardly. Though he was really trying to control his more maniacal urges lately, he still took pleasure in seeing fear on people's faces. Fear meant respect, and the nervous look on Grizzly's face conveyed both fear and respect for Sigma's place as the Maverick Commander, and as such the world's major enemy. Fear gave him the control he needed over people to get them to do what he needed them to do in order to achieve his goal, which again was to rid Megacity 5 of all human life. While he'd debated going after other cities where X and Zero would have a harder time getting to him, that approach had never worked in the past, and so he'd decided to take the battle directly to them. If they somehow found out that the Mavericks had made it to this quarry, the fear from their side would be paramount: If the Mavericks could get HERE, why not in Hunter Headquarters?  
  
Actually, Sigma reminded himself, they WERE in Hunter Headquarters.  
  
"So," Grizzly's voice conveyed urgency for haste, "You said you wanted to buy something?"  
  
"Yes," Sigma nodded, "I actually intend to pay for it, too. Can you believe that?"  
  
"Well, uh…" Grizzly fidgeted, knowing that he'd better be damn lenient about when and what Sigma would pay him, "There's no rush, or anything…"  
  
"Oh, my dear Grizzly," Sigma waved him off, "Treat me as you would any other customer. You want cash, I know. What I want from you is pretty valuable, so I can understand the need to compensate you for it."  
  
If Sigma knew about Grizzly's betrayal, then "compensation" would probably mean Sigma's saber rammed through his heart. But he had to look on the bright side, right? "What is it you want, exactly?"  
  
"It's a generator. More specifically…ah, I forget. Bit?"  
  
"It's the CX-M991, sir," Bit reminded his commander.  
  
"Ah yes, the CX-M991. Do you still have any left?"  
  
Grizzly scratched his chin in thought, using the massive claws on his bladed arm. "I think so. They were a bit too big and expensive to really be popular, so I never sold out…I don't have one WITH me, of course, but I'll probably have something at my shop."  
  
"Excellent!" Sigma smiled broadly. "When can I send someone to get it?"  
  
"Probably tomorrow, if you want." Grizzly wanted Sigma out of his hair as soon as possible.  
  
"Tomorrow, eh? So soon? Well who am I to complain."  
  
Then came the process of finding a price. Grizzly was more than prepared to sell it dirt cheap-anything to get the hell out of there-but Sigma made him a very generous offer that he wound up quickly accepting. While these two haggled, the other members of the security detail were having discussions of their own.  
  
Byte lumbered towards Gredam with an exhausted look on his face. The huge Reploid brute looked more annoyed than Gredam had ever seen him, which said a lot, considering Byte was always annoyed about something or someone. In this case it was Gredam, who was showing Byte up as a slightly superior member of the Maverick army, and forcing him to do things like this, which he viewed as pointless.  
  
"The mines are set," Byte stated in a voice with enough venom in it to be toxic, "So, oh great leader, what do we do now?"  
  
"Wait," Gredam said simply, continuing to fiddle with the handheld radio he used to keep in touch with the others. He never allowed himself to become unnerved by ass holes like Byte.  
  
"Wait," repeated Byte with an exasperated drooping of shoulders, "Wait, wait, wait. We go through all that crap to set up for an offensive force that we have no reason to believe is coming, and then we have to take it all apart before we leave. It's all pointless!"  
  
"Is it?" Gredam murmured, not really paying attention but knowing what Byte was saying to him because of simple repetition; Byte always said the same thing, only in different phrases. "We need to be prepared for everything. The time we drop our guard will be the time they come to get us." He couldn't help himself. "Didn't you learn ANYTHING from Doppler?"  
  
Byte's face twitched in momentary outrage, and he clenched his fists so tight that he put permanent imprints in his own palms. Dr. Doppler was his most revered idol. He and Bit considered themselves to be the finest students their master had ever trained, and since Doppler was a noted genius, the remark left an extremely acidic taste in Byte's mouth. He grunted something and lumbered past Gredam towards Bit and Sigma. Almost immediately afterward, Gredam's radio buzzed with the voice of one of his soldiers.  
  
"Go on," he started.  
  
"Sir," the soldier reported, "We've sighted what may be a Hunter convoy. A sufficient amount of traffic was reported to the north of the quarry, and a lot of it parked at the same spot. It's a knoll by the old chemical plant."  
  
"Good eye," Gredam said as he glanced up to where he knew Malevex was perched. If anyone made it into the quarry, he was quite sure Malevex would eliminate them quite quickly, and if he missed or there were too many of them for him to get, they had enough backup on their side. "Keep me informed. I'm gonna put all our forces on alert. If they start to advance, let me know." He smirked at the retreating form of Byte. "I hate to say I told you so, big guy, but…"  
  
Vulcan, Rykov, and Krysta sat quietly among their comrades as their transport crept towards their still unknown destination. Archer hadn't forbidden conversation, but everyone sort of knew that this wasn't a time for much chitchat. Besides, though everyone had a lot on their mind that they'd like to say, they had no idea how to say it, especially since they didn't have much idea at all of what they were doing tonight.  
  
Archer's voice penetrated the seemingly eternal silence like a massive thunderclap, though he didn't raise his voice any at all. "Raust, Gamma, Gustav, and Torque," he began without fanfare, "will meet with Sol and Delates of Unit 0. You will follow their orders and those of Commander Zero and myself to a T during the operation. You will be forming an advance squad that will serve as our first wave of attack. Vulcan, you will go with them, but you will proceed directly there instead of meeting with Sol and Delates. Your skills with distance rifles are better than average, so you will receive an assault rifle with an enhanced scope. You will serve as a sniper for a while, and if things get really nasty just help everyone else mow the enemy down." The mood grew decidedly grimmer. Archer hadn't exactly said it, but he'd as much as told them all there would be a major battle coming up. "Krysta, you'll be doing some brief reconnaissance with Alia of Unit 17. Meet with her when we stop, and she'll tell you what to do. From then on just assist your comrades. Rykov, Hawkins, and Kyre will work with the heavy firepower. We'll be relying on you to do a lot of the damage." The soldiers were quiet, expecting Archer to go on and tell them about the mission itself, but their leader kept silent for the rest of the trip, leaving them all in uneasy confusion.  
  
But if they might die, as was what seemed to be insinuated, they might as well try to enjoy their last moments. Conversation broke out in quiet tones throughout the transport, and Archer didn't speak up against it. Some, like Rykov, kept quiet anyway, but Krysta took the opportunity to quietly address the look she read on Vulcan's face.  
  
"You look different."  
  
His eyebrow rose. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Yeah." She smiled slightly. "I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous."  
  
"Well," he replied, "This isn't exactly happy hour, you know. There's gonna be some killing in a few minutes."  
  
She shrugged. "Didn't expect you to blanch like you did is all. You're a decent sniper, you know…you don't have much to worry about."  
  
He shrugged in turn. "True. I hide in a nest while others run around out in the open."  
  
"I didn't mean it like that…"  
  
"I know." He smiled uneasily. "I guess even though we all trained for this stuff, the real thing is so much different than I thought it would be."  
  
She snorted. "The real thing is usually a lot simpler for us first timers. I don't know what the problem is or why they need so many units, but whatever it is…" She rested a hand on his knee. "Try to stay alive, all right?"  
  
He smiled and patted her hand; the equivalent of a handshake in this confined space. "I will if you will."  
  
They both nodded, and then there was suddenly nothing left to say. In fact, most of the light conversation died down until finally the transports stopped moving. Archer stood without great haste and surveyed the troops in his vehicle, finally nodding once.  
  
"Our mission is to invade the 12th district quarry and kill Sigma and his soldiers. You have your orders. Maverick Hunters, commence operations." 


	9. Assassination Night

1 Chapter Eight: Assassination Night  
  
Gredam surveyed the landscape like a hawk, daring any enemy to appear. He wasn't high enough that he could see all the way around the quarry, but he could see enough of all the entrances to know if anyone was using them. Sigma and Grizzly Slash were wrapping up their business, so they wouldn't be there much longer, but Gredam still was nervous.  
  
The vehicles that they'd taken for Hunter transports had vanished off radar and the scout who'd reported them to Gredam could see them no more. So, they were either nothing to worry about or the Hunters had both a cloaking device to fool radars and a hiding place that put the transports completely out of sight. Gredam found himself believing the second option.  
  
Byte stood high on a ramp that led up to the cluster of giant jagged rocks where Malevex lay in wait with his sniper rifle. Bit was patrolling the area around Sigma and Grizzly, and Teytha was moving around the entire quarry, never in one place for very long. Aside from the four soldiers who clustered around Sigma, the nine others they'd brought with them were crouched in strategic positions around the quarry. It was, Gredam knew, the most sophisticated Maverick planning that had taken place in years, and he couldn't help but wonder if the army would have triumphed in the past had they taken such pains.  
  
Sigma and Grizzly were shaking hands now; the deal was made. Gredam rubbed his temple with his left hand, wondering to himself. Where were the Hunters?  
  
Vulcan sprinted through the short grass around the quarry, heading for a hill far from any of the entrances. If the Mavericks were waiting for them, they'd be keeping a close eye on all the entrances, so it was a better idea to invade from some other position. He knew that the rest of his group was going through the north entrance, but he had been sent ahead, of course, and his mission was different from theirs. For a while, anyway.  
  
He reached the quarry without incident, carefully scaling a hill of gravel and peering over the top inconspicuously. To his relief, he did see Mavericks, but none were around his immediate position. He clutched his assault rifle-equipped with a long distance sight-to his chest and looked for a suitable place to set up his sniper's nest. He couldn't do it from right here, because his only foot support was the rocky hill. He spotted a cluster of large rocks far below him and, making sure there was no one looking at him, he slid down the gravel hill towards it. His silver armor blended well with the gray color of the stone, and he landed without much noise or incident. Whatever troops he could see patrolling the edge of the quarry were well positioned, but hadn't come past this area yet. He huddled within the rocks, realizing that they hid him extremely well. He also realized that his nest was extremely close to Sigma, who was bidding farewell to a giant grizzly bear. He was very, very low in the quarry, he realized.  
  
Vulcan didn't know it fully at the time, but Lady Luck had placed extreme blessings upon him. He'd approached the quarry and scaled the hill at times when the patrolling Mavericks had passed the area and wouldn't be back for a while, and his hiding spot would keep him invisible to them when they did pass. He'd also picked the spot closest to Sigma, and he could see the north entrance where Sol, Delates, Raust, Gamma, Gustav, and Torque should be approaching.  
  
Vulcan armed his rifle and centered on Sigma. His hand trembled slightly at the concept of the target he had sighted. He could pull the trigger right now, he reasoned, and possibly finish the job alone, however to fire when his comrades had not yet moved in would be suicide, and besides that he was not confident at all that he could hit Sigma now. He was still riled up from the nervousness of his invasion, and if he shot and missed, their cover would be blown and Sigma would probably escape.  
  
So instead, the Hunter tried to calm himself, making note of the other Mavericks hanging around. He recognized the Maverick called Bit, but there was no one else of interest. He kept focus on Sigma and waited.  
  
Rykov carried his chaingun as he marched swiftly towards the east entrance with Kyre and Hawkins, two other fairly large Reploids who were helping him supply what firepower the Hunters would need. X and Zero had been tagging along for a while, but both had now gone off towards the north entrance to oversee the first attack. It wouldn't be long now.  
  
The trio reached the east entrance and surveyed the area. Hawkins hoisted a bazooka-like weapon over his right shoulder and flickered his glances towards Rykov and Kyre. Kyre just shrugged and almost stepped forward for a closer look, but Rykov stopped him.  
  
"I see something…" Rykov explained, crouching and looking to where a small patch of ground had been unearthed and patched together clumsily. In fact, there were several "lumps" in the ground, and it aroused Rykov's suspicion. He analyzed the situation and frowned, a slightly pale tint coming to his face.  
  
"Something wrong?" Kyre's gruff voice asked.  
  
"Are these…" Rykov chewed on the word unpleasantly before saying it, "…mines?"  
  
Krysta and Alia moved like cats through the quarry, drawing little attention from the troops, who were now very concerned about getting out of the quarry above all else, seeing as Sigma had concluded his meeting with Grizzly Slash. They were moving gradually inward, probably to merge with their leader and lead him out of the quarry.  
  
"I count thirteen generics," Alia said to X via wirephone. X replied with a grunt and Alia continued. "There's this one guy with camouflage armor and a wicked big rifle, and I think at one point I saw a woman walking around with two lightsabers. They acted as though they were the leadership. Bit and Byte are also here, but I think that's all."  
  
Krysta scanned the area from their makeshift hiding spot. It wasn't a very good one, though Alia had thought it was, and Krysta was beginning to realize it. Sigma turned from Grizzly and started to walk away, as did the bear. One of the elite soldiers heading down to meet Sigma turned and cast one last glance behind him, making eye contact with Krysta quite by accident. Alia was still talking to X, so she didn't see the reaction on Krysta's face when the elite, raising his rifle, not only saw Krysta sitting there watching him but also Alia. Since Alia was speaking into a radio, and possibly alerting other Hunter troops, the elite deemed her the greater of the two evils and fired his weapon her way. Krysta opened her mouth to warn Alia, she tried to get up and push Alia out of the way, but her body didn't work fast enough. The shot took Alia in the stomach, shredding a neat hole in her and pushing her back hard against the wall she'd been leaning against while communicating. She rebounded off the rock, eyes wide in surprise, midsection spurting blood, and pitched over the ledge on which they were hiding to fall down towards the Mavericks below.  
  
Krysta was horrified, but not paralyzed, and leapt to the side before the elite's second shot, a bit worse off in the aim department, exploded into the rocks where she'd been sitting. She slipped briefly in Alia's blood, grimacing, and rolled down the rocks towards her fallen comrade, drawing the pistol issued to her before the mission, figuring it'd be better than the small axe she carried on her back at this range. There wasn't much else she could think of to do.  
  
"Shit," Zero breathed, listening to all the Maverick chatter growing louder and more frantic. If they weren't on edge before, they were now.  
  
"Something's gotta happen, now." X raised his arm cannon, fully prepared to charge in there and bring Sigma down himself. As it turned out, he wouldn't have to.  
  
Vulcan swore violently. Sigma had begun to move as soon as he'd seen Alia's body fall from the opposite end of the quarry. The sniper took a deep breath and locked on to his target, moonlight gleaming off the barrel of his rifle.  
  
The glare of another sniper rifle was not something Malevex could easily miss. He noted it and smirked coldly. So many targets, so little time. He was, in fact, running out of time. The glare from the other rifle met his eyes again, and he glared right back. He took a deep breath of his own and took aim.  
  
Something inside him made him shudder briefly, and he knew, he just knew, that this one wasn't going to go off well. He was going to miss.  
  
The two rounds screamed through the air like little meteors. One slammed into the ground near Bit's foot, tearing up a large portion of the rocky earth and startling the golden Maverick more than a little, but otherwise proving harmless. The other exploded Commander Sigma's head and dropped the rest of his body to the ground in a crumpled heap.  
  
There had been brief silence when Alia had been shot, and no one knew if the silence that followed this one was longer or shorter, but everyone would agree what followed it was nothing short of pandemonium.  
  
"GO!" X bellowed, firing a blast towards the startled Bit. The Maverick whirled around in confusion, once again unharmed, but now angry. Before he got a chance to fire back, Byte did it for him. The brute detonated his mines as Sol's group passed through the north entrance. The entire stretch of low cut gravel exploded in a maelstrom of fire, tossing soldiers this way and that. Delates, who was mostly through, was thrown into the air and landed hard on his rear, but was otherwise unharmed. Sol, however, went down in the flames and shrapnel almost instantly, along with Raust, Gustav, and a few others. A horrified look clenched Delates's features, but it quickly melted away into rage, and he shot to his feet, brandishing his weapon. Delates himself was a sniper, but he was equally suited to direct invasion, which was what Zero had needed him to do in this case.  
  
Zero himself was not in good shape. Seeing quite a number of his troops go down immediately did not bode well for the commander, and X had to smack him on the shoulder to snap him out of it.  
  
"I didn't even think about mines," Zero said breathlessly.  
  
"Me neither," X shook his head, "But there's no time to worry about it. Come on, before these guys get away!"  
  
Zero nodded and watched X rush into the battle. He had a different target, though. Standing on the top of a nearby ramp of gravel, leading up to some large, spiky rocks, was the giant Byte who now chucked mines into the crowds of advancing Hunters. That was the bastard who'd just burned a bunch of Zero's soldiers, and he wasn't about to let the Maverick get away with it. Zero brandished his saber and raced up the ramp towards Byte, who took nervous notice of the advancing Hunter but met Zero's charge with one of his own. This worried Zero more than a little, since Byte was considerably huge and there was not much room to maneuver here. Nevertheless, Zero managed to feint and leap backwards at the last minute. Byte's charge broke off in a clumsy halt, and Zero took the opportunity to dart back in and drag his sword across the Maverick's torso. Byte let out a bellow but kept coming, forcing himself into Zero and landing a massive fist in the Hunter's chest. Zero flew backward and landed hard, but when he pulled himself to his feet Byte was running away. It became obvious that all Byte had been doing was buying time for his comrades, and now it was time for him to get out of there.  
  
Rykov quite frankly saw no need for heavy weaponry, and so just ran after any Mavericks he saw. They had retreated frantically, but still had kept good form. Only three of the enemy had been killed besides Sigma, and Rykov really wondered if they'd take any more down at all. These guys moved with more skill than anyone expected the Mavericks to do, like there was some new strict training regimen.  
  
Whatever it was, Rykov figured most of the killing was over. He fired only occasionally, and none of his shots hit, since the targets were sparse. The enemy was doing its fair share of resistance, too, and had excellent shots. Rykov and Kyre had left Hawkins behind with a shot up leg, and many other Hunters had been taken by Byte's mines. Rykov had saved his allies that problem by identifying the mines early on and moving to a safer location, but shrapnel had still cleaved a decent gash in his arm and scarred Kyre's face.  
  
Most of the Maverick targets were retreating towards the south exit, one of the few that hadn't been devastated by mines. Rykov headed that way, noticing that most of the Hunters were closing in on the same position.  
  
Krysta was surprised she'd made it through the wave of attacks. She'd gone straight for Alia, determined to protect the wounded Huntress until reinforcements poured in. When Sigma had gone down, she'd been quite relieved to have the attention lifted from her, and managed to drag Alia behind some rubble and fortify the position with her pistol.  
  
It was never really a battle, she decided. It was a hunt. The Mavericks had begun their retreat as soon as Sigma was shot, since they were hopelessly outnumbered. They fled now to the south part of the quarry, though some were still covering for their comrades. She saw Byte limping past while clutching a saber wound in his torso, and actually took a shot at him but missed. Byte thankfully paid no mind to it and kept running. Bit had sprinted past far earlier and was leading the troops towards the exit. However, a small unit of Hunters would be waiting for the Mavericks there, hopefully ready to surprise them with an ambush.  
  
The Mavericks were firing back, however. She saw some of her fellow rookies firing insanely at the Mavericks, missing every time yet still believing that they were accomplishing something. Anything to be heroes, right? All they were doing was creating a hazard for their friends, and too many of those had died in this short time.  
  
As if to prove her point, she turned to the right just in time to see something she could have done without. The cocky Harrier, who had came into battle with his guns blazing and his enthusiasm skyrocketing, was confronting a lithe female Maverick who extended a machine pistol his way. The Maverick had crept out of nowhere, perhaps to bring up the rear or give aid to a Maverick who still hadn't begun to run away. She leveled her weapon at Harrier and before the sapphire Hunter could react he was riddled with lasers. The Maverick dropped the Hunter like a sack of bricks and looked around for her next victim.  
  
Though Harrier had never been her favorite person, seeing him shot down right in front of her urged Krysta to take action. She ran towards the female Maverick, firing her pistol wildly. Her shots missed, but they alarmed the Maverick, who acknowledged Krysta by leveling her machine pistol at the Huntress. Some primal instinct in Krysta took hold and she dropped her pistol and took hold of the axe strapped to her back. She whipped her weapon of choice into her hands and held the broad blades up in front of her chest and face just as a hail of the Maverick's gunfire slammed into it. Both the sight of the axe and the way it had been used impressed the Maverick assassin, and she replaced the machine pistol and whipped out two lightsabers. Krysta recognized her now as the one she and Alia had reported to X earlier. As distance between the two closed, the Maverick looked past Krysta and apparently saw something more important. She leapt clear over Krysta's head and sprinted off towards where Zero had confronted Byte earlier. Krysta almost turned to follow, but she realized that at the rate her enemy was sprinting, she'd never catch up. That and the ground before her erupted as it was hit by a round of plasma from some assault rifle. Her head snapped towards the source of the shot, one of Sigma's elite guards. He swore, and decided he had better luck running towards the rest of his comrades at the south exit.  
  
Krysta took off after him, noting that most of the Hunters were indeed congregating there. She passed Harrier with a grimace, idly wondering what would become of her other comrades.  
  
Vulcan had leapt out of his nest a long time ago, and he'd taken down an elite guard shortly after. He was elated, and charged into battle with high spirits. Since there were barely ten of the enemy, kills were hard to come by, and he had to admit that he wanted even more of them.  
  
He sprinted towards the south exit, where most of the Hunters were chasing the Mavericks. Along the way he met up with Kyre, who had fallen behind from Rykov, largely due to his big build.  
  
"Good to see you alive," Kyre stated simply.  
  
"Likewise," Vulcan nodded, increasing his pace. It was a good thing he did. Seconds later a round from some unseen sniper took Kyre through the chest, spilling the warrior onto the ground in a bloody heap. Vulcan rolled to the side immediately, and when the roll finished he sprang up off the ground towards the direction from which he'd begun his roll. As he'd expected, the sniper fired towards where he finished his roll, so his leap had saved him.  
  
He glanced back at Kyre, who was still alive and waving him on. His sprints became faster and he wove in different directions, making his path of travel unpredictable in case the sniper decided to shoot after him some more.  
  
X met him as he closed in on the south exit.  
  
"I've been looking for you!" the champion Hunter said as he rapped Vulcan on the back, "That was an excellent shot!"  
  
"What do you mean, sir?" Vulcan asked over the din of shouting soldiers and gunfire.  
  
"You're the only sniper we were using," X stated as they ran, "What do you think I mean? When you nailed Sigma!"  
  
"I didn't hit Sigma," Vulcan protested.  
  
"What…?" X said in a lower tone, thinking he'd misheard.  
  
"It wasn't me, sir!" Vulcan said, louder, "Sigma started moving as soon as Alia was shot down! I didn't realize it when I chose my nest, but its location put a large rock hill in between me and one of Sigma's possible exit routes. When the shooting started he turned and went down that path, putting him out of my line of fire! My shot was aimed at Bit; I thought I could at least take out one of the major leaders! I missed him, though."  
  
X frowned gloriously, slowing his sprint for just a few seconds. "Then who…? Who killed Sigma?"  
  
Malevex smiled thinly. He hadn't missed, after all.  
  
Who he had missed, though, was that second sniper as he ran away. He'd taken the Hunter sniper's friend down, and a few others at that, but that one had used impressive evasion tactics that he just hadn't expected from what he thought to be under trained warriors. But he'd taken down the target that counted, and now it was time to get out of here.  
  
He rose from his rocky nest, looking around the battlefield. He saw Gredam's big form near the south exit, where they were all running, and he couldn't see Teytha anywhere, so he imagined she was over there. Time for him to sneak out. He turned to make sure the coast was clear, but of course it wasn't.  
  
Still standing on the ledge leading up to the sniper's nest, watching Byte run away and trying to find a new target, the stunned Zero was recovering from the blow to his chest when he and Malevex made eye contact. Instant, bone-chilling recognition passed through both of them and left both paralyzed, one because of shock and the other very much because of fear.  
  
Unable to find any words suitable for a war cry, Zero just charged up the ledge towards the man who'd killed Mea with a feral roar, saber poised to rip the Maverick limb from limb. Malevex, realizing his sniper rifle would do him scant amount of good at this range, cast it to the side and drew his own lightsaber, meeting Zero's hateful gaze with a confidence he certainly did not feel. Though he was somewhat of an expert in special ops, Malevex was not too enthusiastic about a hand-to-hand battle with one of the most powerful Reploids in the world.  
  
Their sabers exploded into each other with a hideous sizzling clang, and the rage behind Zero's attack gave his the power needed to overpower Malevex's. Zero proceeded into a series of fast, furious swipes that, to his great surprise, Malevex had no problem parrying. The Maverick countered each of Zero's slashes, but could not attack for himself, because if he took his mind of his counterstrikes for a second, Zero would cleave the life out of him instantly. Zero kept the attacks coming out of fury, and Malevex kept parrying out of sheer will to survive, until finally Malevex dropped to the ground and swept his legs out towards his opponent's. Somewhat blinded by his own fury, Zero didn't see it coming, and had his feet swept out from under him. Before the exhausted Maverick could attack him, however, Zero sprang back to his feet and surprised his enemy with a hard slash that ripped into Malevex's midsection. It was just what a human would call a flesh wound, but Zero wasn't done. He came at his briefly stunned enemy with a shoulder charge, spilling the Maverick heavily onto the ground and sending Malevex's lightsaber clattering across stones, far from his grounded form.  
  
Zero glared at the Maverick with a look that should have killed him, wordlessly conveying that he'd been waiting a very long time for this. Malevex just glared back defiantly, figuring if he was going to go out, he might as well go out strong.  
  
It didn't happen quite like that, however. As Zero raised his sword for the final blow, Teytha darted up behind him and brought one of her sabers down into the shoulder of Zero's sword arm. The Hunter cried out in more shock than pain, and whirled towards his new enemy, extending his foot as he did so. It shot out with lightning speed, burying itself in Teytha's stomach and expelling all air from her lungs. She flew a good five feet backwards and landed in a winded heap, stunned.  
  
As soon as he'd turned to face Teytha, however, Zero knew he'd made a big error. He turned back to Malevex, hoping against hope, but he was of course too late. The very brief distraction Teytha had caused was more than long enough for Malevex to retrieve his pistol from its holster and level the powerful weapon at Zero's chest. The Hunter threw himself desperately towards the right, and the last minute dodge meant that Malevex's shot burrowed all the way through his heavily armored lower left leg instead of chewing its way through his chest. Zero gave a single bark of pain, but it grew into a sudden roar when the leg he had chosen to land on became the one that had been shot. It gave out from under him and he pitched further to the side, rolling off the ledge they had been fighting on and plummeting down to the bottom of the quarry.  
  
Malevex pulled himself to his feet, grabbed his saber, and raced over to Teytha, who was gingerly massaging her stomach. He pulled her to her feet, since she was still regaining the breath and the energy needed to do the job herself, and they helped each other down the opposite side of the ledge, leaving a different way than the other Mavericks were. Normally, they may have stuck around to finish Zero off, but some Hunters were coming to help Zero, and they didn't really have the time to mess with them.  
  
Teytha didn't remember much about the escape, but she did remember that Malevex was very pale during most of it.  
  
When everyone got to the south exit of the 12th district quarry, things got really bad.  
  
The Hunters waiting at the south exit to ambush the retreating Mavericks were actually a fairly small force. They figured to come down on the Mavericks when they were coming through the exit itself, but they were unprepared for the kind of skills these Mavericks had been taught.  
  
One elite guard caught sight of one of the ambushers before he got to close. He bellowed out a warning, and it started. The Hunters closing in from behind threw caution to the wind and began shooting, and the ambush party came out prematurely. Two elites were dropped quickly, but Bit, Byte, and the others held their ground as they crept through the exit. The remaining elites tossed their frag grenades over the exit at the ambush party, and the effect of this was fairly devastating. Shrapnel shredded several suits of armor and punctured bodies, and in some cases the Hunters grabbed the grenades to hurl them back, but they went off in the hands of their potential throwers.  
  
As if that wasn't enough, Gredam was making use of his grenade launcher. A thick plume of smoke trailed down through the air and landed in the center of a cluster of Hunters. The explosion shattered the formation, and broke the Hunters' solid advance nicely. Gredam found X among the crowds and launched a second grenade at the Azure Hunter, but it exploded a few feet ahead of X, not doing any real harm to the Hunter champion. Once all his Maverick brethren were through the exit, Gredam himself retreated.  
  
Krysta was among the first to charge after the Mavericks. The crowd of Hunters that moved with her through the south exit did see Byte stop in his tracks and glance back, but they were too far ahead to make use of the significance of that fact. Others, like Rykov and Vulcan, stopped before they got too much further and bellowed warnings, but they were far too late. Byte detonated the mines he'd sewed in the south exit, and the Hunters in the area flew in random directions, though some unfortunates just disintegrated in the storm of shrapnel that was created by the initial explosion. Vulcan watched Krysta vanish in the fire, and then he and Rykov were being hurtled backwards by the explosion. They both landed and were promptly rained on by a hail of soot and broken gravel and, in some cases, Reploidic blood.  
  
Mega Man X was thrown against a rocky wall by the blast and crumpled to his knees shortly after, totally winded. Shrapnel had carved hundreds of little niches into his armor and synthetic skin beneath, and the Hunter's breath was choked with pain, but he knew his pain was nothing compared to that of some of his comrades. The smoke took a long time to clear, but by the time it did the battle was long over and soldiers from both sides lay in pools of their own blood throughout the 12th district quarry. X sighed heavily, forcing himself to wander the area that the mines had devastated and help look for survivors. Delates of Unit 0 was one of the first to hook up with X and help pull the moaning, half-dead Hunters into a pile.  
  
X felt his heart grow heavily with the realities of war, and he knew that once that happened he'd be no good to anyone. He hated war and all aspects of it, combat included, but he couldn't let his personal feelings interfere with saving lives. Still, guilt stabbed at his spirit. He and Zero had led a very large team of Hunters down here to deal with barely more than ten Mavericks, and in a battle of less than five minutes the Mavericks had killed or incapacitated more than half of their army. Though he knew it was mostly because these Mavericks were better trained than any he had ever come across, he also figured it was his own failure as their leader for not preparing his troops better for this kind of thing.  
  
Vulcan coughed violently, getting weakly to his feet and shaking the dust off of his body. Rykov was already up and helped him the rest of the way to his feet. They both started immediately towards the site of that last explosion, where they found their mutual target, Krysta, crumpled up on the ground. She was unconscious and bleeding profusely, but it did look like she had survived. Actually, it wasn't that surprising. The Reploids could take a lot more punishment than humans could, and the fact that Commander Signas had sent no humans with them this night registered in Vulcan's brain as a good thing.  
  
Everyone who could help was now helping. The battle was over, and even though Sigma, the King of Mavericks, was dead, no one felt joyous in the least. Vulcan and Rykov both carried Krysta over to where X had begun to gather the survivors. Even now medics were pouring into the quarry, and the Hunters had sent relief squads from the Headquarters. Douglas had been watching the whole event via the satellite camera, and had sent medical care as soon as he'd seen the first mines go off.  
  
As they set Krysta down, their eyes locked with those of Commander Archer, who was wrapping up whatever bleeding wounds he could on the fallen Hunters. The thing that was odd about this was that where Archer's right arm should have been, there was now a bleeding stump that was wrapped with a tight rag to keep all his internal coolant blood from pumping out of him. And yet he was still tearing pieces from a rag he'd brought with him to bind what wounds he could with just his remaining one arm. Both Rykov and Vulcan gained a new respect for their leader at that moment.  
  
"You two," he said at last, "Give me a hand here." He pushed the large rag towards them, and they immediately set to binding some of Krysta's most obvious wounds. The medics arrived at their site shortly after, and they took all of them aside for inspection. Vulcan grabbed one of them, a tall, broad Reploid with a face set in blocked metal and a green/white coloration, and insisted that he look at Krysta quickly. The medic, who identified himself as "Lifesaver", shrugged and obliged.  
  
"Your friend will live," he said when he finished, "Once we get her some help, anyway." He motioned towards the medical transports that were driving themselves cautiously into the quarry, for fear of more mines. "We're only here for immediate aid. I've stopped the bleeding as much as I can. Get her and all the others I treat to those transports as quickly as possible." They nodded affirmative, and Rykov, Vulcan, and Lifesaver became a bit of a team for the next hour.  
  
Zero, supported by Torque from Unit 5, limped towards X with an agonized expression that just grew worse with each step. A medic came to him at once but they all refused attention until the rest of the Hunters got it first. It was their way of compensating their troops for what they admitted was lax planning on the mission.  
  
"You know," X said hopefully, "Not everyone who was damaged will die. I'll bet our death toll won't be high at all."  
  
"Mm…" Zero mumbled, lost in thought. "At least…Sigma's gone, right?"  
  
X hesitated ever so briefly before nodding, wishing he had wood to knock on. "Whoever shot him destroyed his whole head. No way a control chip could survive it."  
  
"What do you mean whoever? We only had one sniper."  
  
"Vulcan claims he didn't do it. I've asked around the survivors, I asked 'How about Vulcan's shot, eh?' And they all agree that it was a great shot."  
  
"I see…you didn't give any of them the chance to take credit for it, and make themselves a hero. Good one."  
  
"Yes, but they all thought Vulcan did it, and he says he didn't. Does that mean…it was from their side?"  
  
"Hell," Zero snorted, "Could well have been Grizzly Slash. Has anyone found the bastard yet? No. He snuck away as soon as the attack started."  
  
X nodded, looking around the now bloodstained quarry. God, they had screwed up. He looked back to Zero, and the look on his friend's face said he shared X's embarrassment and guilt at the situation, but there was something else, something a lot bigger there. "Are you all right, Zero?"  
  
"I…" he stopped, letting his voice drop off. There was something there all right, and it looked like X's friend was looking a ghost in the eye.  
  
"Man," X pressed, "You really don't look so good. Is it your wounds…?"  
  
"It's…" Zero shook his head. X always did this. There were plenty of things nowadays that Zero found absolutely torturous to talk about, even though he knew he had to sometimes. X always wanted so genuinely to help him through it, and though he always had a problem with sharing his personal secrets, he was glad to have a friend like X that he felt he could share them with if he had to. His head rose slowly upward to meet X's gaze and he smiled weakly. "It's weird," he said, and that was enough for X to understand. "I'll talk about it later, okay?"  
  
X nodded reply. "Sure…" He hoped he didn't sound as worried as he felt. The last time he'd seen his friend like this was immediately after the Repliforce war, when he was dealing with the guilt of having killed Iris and Colonel. It suddenly struck him that worried as he should be over his best friend, there were many others here who may need to be worried over just as much if not more. He nodded to Zero and Torque, and headed to where Lifesaver and his fellow medics were working to see if he could get a casualty report.  
  
"Uh…" said Zero's support, "Is there somewhere you want me to help you over to, sir?"  
  
Zero turned his head and smiled thanks at Torque. "Yeah. Home." 


	10. Aftermath

1 Chapter Nine: Aftermath  
  
Signas managed a grin, looking from face to face among those in his presence. "Well, guys," he said with all the enthusiasm he could muster, "You did it."  
  
His companions nodded their heads in agreement, smiling a little themselves. Finally, they'd smiled.  
  
Signas let out a mental sigh. He'd spent the better part of the last few hours debriefing X, Zero, and Mason. He'd finally decided that enough was enough and, now that the havoc had died down somewhat, it was about time for people to get some rest. To his left, a tall Reploid equipped with red and white armor nodded his head to agree with Signas's plan to conclude the meeting. This was Tiberius, the Chief Medic of the Maverick Hunters. At Signas's right, a slight Reploid in nothing more than a loose fitting brown leather coat merely gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. Caligula, the Chief of Intelligence, tended to be very indifferent about things, and this more often than not irked his co-workers. Indeed, there weren't many Hunters in the base who were friendly with Caligula, though then again, not many people were friendly with the spooks in general.  
  
The Unit commanders looked fairly exhausted, and Signas could hardly blame them. Of the three who were present, Zero was the worst off. Deep slash wounds to his back and a bullet wound in the leg had been treated on site at the quarry, but only barely so, since the tools the medics had with them were far from the quality that was found at the base hospitals. Zero had limped here supported by both Mason and Torque, a new Hunter from Unit 5 who had stood at attention for a good while until Signas had bade him sit down. The wounds to Zero were hardly serious enough to be fatal, but they still had to hurt like a bitch. X was fairly haggard too, with plenty of shrapnel stuck in him that would have to come out via a surgeon's tweezers. Unit 3's commander, Archer, was too badly wounded to appear for a debriefing, and though he was receiving medical care, he was still in serious condition.  
  
And so were a good twenty or so others. The mine traps laid by the Mavericks had been good at causing mass damage, and several Hunters had bit the bullet for good. The process of reviving Reploids was a lot trickier than was common knowledge, for all too often the control chips were too badly damaged. When that wasn't the case, the medics were scrambling to revive the Reploids they could, but though Tiberius still had yet to make a full list of casualties, Signas wasn't very optimistic.  
  
"You're being too hard on yourselves," Caligula suggested, "You guys were hit hard, but you did complete the mission objective. You killed Sigma. Has that registered yet?"  
  
Mason leaned back and let out a small laugh. "Not really, Cal. This victory seems a little hollow."  
  
"Not so," Caligula insisted, "Think of all the other struggles to defeat Sigma. Thousands of innocents and fighters alike lost their lives during those campaigns. Thousands! And last night, we accomplished the same goal while losing only a miniscule amount of lives. Please forgive me if I sound cold, but while it's hard to lose our friends, it was hardly as bad as it could have been."  
  
"He's right, you know," Tiberius agreed, "Your troops all performed excellently. Be sure to instill that in their minds; they'll need the encouragement, I think." His listeners nodded, fully intending on complying. "Now you two," he motioned to X and Zero, "need some help. I'll help you down to the medical ward—give me a hand, Torque? Thanks."  
  
"Then check up on your Units," Signas added, getting up to adjourn their little meeting. "I'll report what we know to Cain, but for now, job well done. You did as best you could under the circumstances, and completed your objective."  
  
"And just bought us all a lot more peacetime," Zero added breathlessly, grinning through teeth flaked with blood, "Without a strong leader, the Mavs will fall into disorganization."  
  
"Just like all the other times," X agreed, smiling himself.  
  
Signas nodded, and everyone present saluted each other. Then, Tiberius and Torque helped Zero out of the room, and X and Mason followed. Caligula glanced up at Signas when they were alone.  
  
"You think it's over, just like that?" the spook asked warily.  
  
"That's what I was about to ask you," Signas replied, just as wary.  
  
"Hmm…" Caligula pursed his lips in thought. "True, every time in the past, once Sigma is taken down, the Maverick infrastructure self destructs. Power struggles begin, people start bumping off their allies, etcetera. Though we of course always have more problems in the future." The intelligence officer gave Signas what passed as a salute and made his recommendation. "Our people will monitor the Maverick Base for any suspicious activity, as well as other known Maverick strongholds. If anything comes up, you'll be the first to know, sir."  
  
Signas nodded. "Dismissed." Caligula departed and Signas was left alone with his thoughts. His real assignment was to report to Dr. Cain all about the attack, but he wanted to make sure the casualty list was up to date before doing so. That left him with the threat of Maverick retaliation. It was up to him to devise the Hunter programs necessary to guard against Maverick attack during times of increased threat, known as Red Climates. In the past, Sigma had been killed only after most of his army had been eliminated. This time, Sigma had been taken down before his forces could be dwindled, and those forces would more than likely want revenge, meaning this Red Climate could last a very long time. They had to be ready for anything.  
  
"Why worry?" he said to himself, "Sigma is gone, at least for a while. We averted a lot of crises with what we just did. It could have been so much worse…"  
  
"What do you mean, we're out of morphine?"  
  
"I mean what I said. We're out of morphine."  
  
"We don't have any more?!"  
  
"We don't have any morphine!"  
  
"Are you SURE?"  
  
"Do you want me to SPELL it for you?"  
  
Lifesaver sighed. It had been a long night and an even longer day. The senior medic was sitting in his office behind a mountain of paperwork, desperately trying to get a casualty report ready for Tiberius. The technician in front of him now had to know that this was the third time they had sent for more morphine that week, had to know that there was nothing left in the reserves, had to know that this knowledge would only serve to piss Lifesaver off, but he'd come to report it anyway. Lifesaver mentally added the tech to his list.  
  
"Fine, just whack 'em on the head with a hammer if they complain…" the medic conceded.  
  
"Seriously…?" asked a curiously hopeful technician.  
  
"Actually? I don't have a better idea."  
  
"YES. I'll get right back to work, SIR."  
  
Lifesaver sighed again. He leaned back in his chair, which was completely full of his stocky frame, and stretched luxuriously. He longed for sleep. The day's shift would be over shortly, but the commanders and senior officers, meaning him, still had a lot to do. Technically, Unit commanders would be called off duty along with everyone else, but Lifesaver figured X, Zero, and Mason would be far more concerned with checking up on their soldiers than they would be on their shuteye.  
  
The door opened again, and Lifesaver almost growled in irritation until he realized who had entered.  
  
"Ah, there you are! I've been looking for you two."  
  
Vulcan and Rykov nodded respectfully, not really knowing why Lifesaver's assistant had sent them here, but they did know that the man, while not a soldier, technically outranked them, so they kept polite.  
  
"I want to thank you," the medic went on, "For helping me out there at the quarry. That there was rising above and beyond the call of duty, and I really think you deserve due credit for that."  
  
"It was nothing, sir," Rykov insisted immediately, "We just did what we had to do."  
  
"Feh," Lifesaver waved it off, "You could just of easily have said your commander needed you elsewhere or kept looking for people lost in the rubble. You helped out where help was really needed, and actually saved quite a few lives with your haste." He brushed a list on his desk with his fingertips. "Your friend Krysta, for instance."  
  
"She's okay?" Vulcan asked, a bit quickly.  
  
"Well," Lifesaver's face scrunched up in a thoughtful smirk, "she's not exactly 'okay', but she's alive at least. She's in serious condition, along with several others, but her injuries are no longer life threatening, and repairs are proceeding smoothly. In fact, most of the people in 'serious' condition are actually conscious and collected." He laughed a little. "That means they complain a lot, but at least they're talking. Oh," he added, "your Unit's commander, Archer. He's also in serious condition but he is scheduled to make a full recovery. It'll take time, though, for his systems to re-align, as with any serious reconstruction, and I doubt he'll be ready to work with you for a few weeks."  
  
"At least he's holding up," Rykov said, somewhat relieved.  
  
The medic nodded. "That he is…and that's all I really had to say. I've reported your deeds to your commanders and they're as impressed as I am. I was really grateful for the help. You can go now, if the hospital smell is getting to you."  
  
The two stood briefly at attention, and then decided that the medic really cared little for military formality, so they thanked him again and left. Almost immediately afterwards Mason entered, looking inquisitively at the piles of papers Lifesaver was trying to work on.  
  
"Argh!" the senior medic dropped his pen again, "At this rate I'll never finish!"  
  
"My apologies, Lifesaver, I just wondered if you had any word on my fighters. X and Zero have asked me to get information for them, too."  
  
"It's no problem, Mason." Lifesaver chuckled inwardly. "I don't really want to work on these, anyway."  
  
"I know the feeling…"  
  
"So. Your Unit 7 did suffer some losses, I'm afraid. Here's a list of wounded for you to look at, but I'll need it back before you leave. As far as those killed, the names I've got are Jerome, Harrier, and Kars."  
  
"Damn," Mason grumbled, passing back the list. "All dead on site?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
"Maverick bastards…" Losing troops was never easy for commanders, at least for the good ones. Mason didn't look like a very happy camper, and frankly, Lifesaver pitied the next Maverick that Mason came across.  
  
"Perhaps you should take notes for Archer, too. He'll be coming out of surgery tomorrow."  
  
A nod. "Let's hear it."  
  
"Well it's not good news, I'm afraid. Units 3 and 0 took the heaviest damage, since they hit that first minefield. Raust, Gamma, and Gustav are dead from Unit 3, and their Kyre is in very critical condition. I don't know if he'll make it or not. As far as Unit 0, Sol died from the mine blast, and shrapnel has shredded a bit of his control chip. A revival operation would be a bit risky, and the Sol that was reborn could possibly have serious problems. Also, a Maverick gunman took out Katana, one of Zero's recon soldiers. As far as Unit 17, the only injury was to Alia. She'll survive, but her internal structure was a bit warped by the heat generated by the laser that hit her. I really don't think she'll be able to fight any more after this." Lifesaver took a breath. "But that's the worst of it, I believe, as far as your three Units are concerned. As far as Maverick casualties, we have Sigma, of course, and five of Sigma's guards. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it's still an impressive kill, given the skill they had this time."  
  
"We learn anything from the enemy?"  
  
"We're sending the control chips to Intel as we speak. They'll scan them and see if they can figure out what to expect from our enemies."  
  
Mason nodded. "Your team did well out there, Lifesaver. Really lived up to your name, there."  
  
"You too," the medic nodded, "By taking out Sigma, you probably saved a lot more lives than I ever could."  
  
Mason just tilted his head to stare at the ceiling. "We'll see, I guess."  
  
Rykov bid his friend farewell and left the infirmary, heading back to the dorms to inform the rest of their unit about the casualties, but Vulcan remained among the doctors and medics. The still-armored Reploid passed wordlessly through the aisles of wounded Hunters, carefully avoiding the hospital staff as they bustled about performing their duties. He thanked whatever angel had been watching over him last night that he and Rykov had gotten off with just a few scratches from the final mine blast, rather than being killed off or winding up in this situation.  
  
Eventually he found himself wandering amongst those of his own Unit. Most everyone had taken some form of injury, and though not all were serious, several others were still at the risk of death. Hawkins, leaning heavily on a massive crutch and sporting a metallic cast on his right leg, hobbled towards Vulcan. The Reploid's leg had been shot up during the mission, and though it had been repaired, nanobots were still making the final connections within the limb to make it whole again, which was why the cast was needed.  
  
"Glad to see you alive," Hawkins, a big red and blue Reploid, said in greeting.  
  
"Likewise," Vulcan replied, taking his comrade's offered hand in a firm grasp. Any trace of non-unity between the two that had existed before was gone now, even though they didn't know each other terribly well. That didn't matter; what mattered was that they had both stared death in the face and had come out on top, and in that sense they and all the others were blood brothers. Warfare mentalities like this made it easier for the Hunters to fight for each other as well as themselves, and this had helped them win more than one battle in the past.  
  
"Got out of it without a scratch, eh?" Hawkins noted.  
  
"Not exactly. The last explosion threw me for a loop. How's your leg?"  
  
Hawkins shrugged. "They said it'll be up to snuff in a few days, so I won't be long out of practice when I rejoin you." He grinned. "Tell that friend of yours to watch his back; this is just a minor setback." It was a well- known fact among the Unit that Rykov and Hawkins had a friendly rivalry going in the field of heavy assault. While it could be argued that it didn't take much to run into an arena with giant guns blazing, these two insisted there was finesse to it and kept trying to best each other. When two big Reploids are competing for the title of King Carnage…well, you can imagine what the Unit's training room had looked like recently.  
  
"That's good, and you can bet Rykov'll be ready for you when you come back." A beeping came from Hawkins's wrist com, and the Hunter smiled apologetically. "'Fraid I can't grace you with my presence anymore, Vulc. Leg needs a final setting."  
  
Vulcan nodded. "Be seeing you, then."  
  
"Roger," Hawkins confirmed, hobbling off towards one of the idle doctors, "Don't blow yourself up or anything."  
  
Unsure of whether Hawkins was serious or not, Vulcan just nodded and returned his attention to the others who were lying around, unconscious or otherwise. He finally came upon Krysta, who was just in the process of waking up. The mines she had charged into had done a number on her. The initial explosion had sent her systems into shock and the shrapnel had shredded most of her armor and done damage to her internals. By some miracle, the damage was repairable, and though Krysta would be out of action for a good period of time, she'd survive and be almost as good as new. Her armor had been removed at the quarry to make it easier for Lifesaver to operate, as with all the other victims treated on-site, and a gaggle of machinery was nearby her bed to keep her life systems running while the nanobots repaired them. These machines were generally able to support two Reploids at once, and were positioned in between every bed in the rows. Vulcan noted grimly that Krysta shared her machine with the critically wounded Kyre, who was still worrying the doctors with sudden failures of various internal systems.  
  
Clothing on a Reploid always looks a bit awkward, unless the Reploid is designed to be as humanoid as possible, and hospital gowns on them seemed even more odd to Vulcan, but there had been nothing else to put on Krysta and since leaving a patient, human or Reploid, stark naked in plain sight was not a very good idea for those doctors who wished to remain alive, she was covered in one of the said gowns. At least she looked comfortable. Vulcan felt a sudden, profound sense of relief when her eyes opened to confirm her life, similar to ones he'd felt at the quarry when he and Rykov had found her amidst the rubble and again when Lifesaver had told them she would live. He was becoming good friends with all the members of his Unit, but he felt especially close to Krysta. He rested a hand on hers and waited for her optics to register that he was there.  
  
"Vulcan…?"  
  
"Good morning, sunshine," he said, and almost laughed. With her hair all tattered and messy and the fact that she was a wreck in general, she seemed the epitome of someone waking up to the Morning From Hell.  
  
"What's…so funny?"  
  
"Nothing." He unconsciously squeezed her hand a bit more, as if he thought it'd wake her up faster, "How do you feel?"  
  
"Mm…" she closed her eyes and let out a weak cough. "Like shit…?"  
  
"Heh…and you were worried about me."  
  
This time she laughed a little. Her head rolled to the side a bit, eyeing the machine. She kept her gaze fixed on it for a while before turning to look back at Vulcan, her eyes asking the question she was afraid to.  
  
He recognized it. "Don't worry, Krys. You're gonna be fine. The docs say you'll make a full recovery. It'll just take a while, is all."  
  
"Ah…" She closed her eyes again, as though working up the strength to talk. "That's good, I guess…how's Rykov…?  
  
"He's good," Vulcan assured her, "Both of us got out of it unhurt."  
  
"Heh…I should…take lessons…"  
  
"Nah. Just make sure you look before you leap, from now on."  
  
"Right…" Tiredness was closing in on her again. Sleeping would probably be better for her, Vulcan reasoned.  
  
"Well, look. You just get some rest, ok? That's the best thing for you, right now."  
  
"Okay…" she agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Vulcan started to take his hand away but she tightened her grip, stopping him. "Come back later…?" she all but pleaded to her confused friend.  
  
Vulcan hesitated briefly, and then nodded his head. "Sure. I'll come back in a few hours, okay?"  
  
She nodded in turn and seemed to relax a little. They stared at each other for a while for no real reason until Vulcan smiled down once more at her while slipping his hand out of hers. He patted her gently on the head and left her to sleep.  
  
Sergeant Major Timofey Komanov had been in the Megacity 5 army for as long as he could remember, and the middle-aged officer had been in the secret operations program for most of that time. During his career as a soldier/spook, he had participated in some particularly disturbing operations, but his biggest role had been in an extremely hush-hush project that should have been totally eliminated years ago. However, rumors were floating around that the program was very much alive, and was responsible for the murder of his colleague and superior officer, General Peter Thornton.  
  
Komanov's career had been based on one simple fact; he hated Reploids. He hated them personally, he hated what they did to his fellow humans, he hated the mess they had made of the world, and he most of all hated them for thinking they had some place in the world that demanded their independence. In Komanov's mind, they were the servants of humans, and nothing more! They should never have been given the freedom of choice and the freedoms they now had. If you gave them an inch, they'd walk all over you. The Mavericks had proved this time and time again by demanding the right to rule over their human creators, as though they had some God-given mandate. Then Repliforce had gone so far as to betray the humans who had spent so much time organizing them and trying to make their lives worthwhile by demanding an independent state for Reploids. It was never meant to be that way, and as far as Komanov was concerned, it never would be.  
  
He and his colleagues had a lot of leverage in the political handling of Megacity 5, and were among the most vocal opponents of Reploid rights and freedoms. They argued that with too much power, even the non-violent Reploids would become "Mavericks" in their own right and start to manipulate and maltreat the humans. And they would, because they had been built to be like humans.  
  
The suggestion that Thornton had been murdered by a rogue element of one of his programs was inconceivable. More likely, thought Komanov, Thornton had been taken out by a disgruntled Reploid or supporter of Reploids who was tired of hearing his hard line policies against their race. This didn't add much to Komanov's feelings about Reploids.  
  
This hatred was to be his undoing. The army spook exited his vehicle in a sparsely populated section of Megacity 5's slums in civilian clothing and wearing a heavy black hat to shade his face. No casual onlooker would recognize him as the machine-hater he was. Komanov wove through the predetermined path of back alleys and neglected roads that were bent and torn out of shape after years of stress born from continual wars. He disliked meeting contacts in this way, seeing it more suitable for a lesser man to do the grunt work. However this information was still top secret, and the couriers were all trusted members of Komanov's faction, and no one else could be responsible for handling such information. This information would contain orders from General Klementi Virdelko, the Grand Commander of their faction, who had relocated to the nearby Sub City 12 under the guise of a troop evaluation soon to take place. Komanov was pretty sure he knew the real reason why Virdelko had fled Megacity 5, though.  
  
The contact was right where he should be. He was dressed in what remained of a tattered cloak, which was the typical clothing of the homeless because of the warmth it provided, and he was smoking a cigarette while leaning calmly against the side of a run down building. To the casual onlooker, he was just a bum who was collecting his thoughts.  
  
Komanov knew none of the contacts used by Virdelko personally, and therefore the sound of the contact's voice meant nothing to him. In fact, there wasn't supposed to be any vocal communication at all unless necessary, but even as the shrouded contact handed Komanov the envelope containing Virdelko's instructions, he breached protocol by speaking.  
  
"We may have a problem."  
  
Komanov blinked, staring blankly. Then his mind started moving. He didn't doubt the loyalty of Virdelko's man for an instant, believing that anything that merited speaking to be dead serious. An unnecessary breach in protocol could come down very hard on an intelligence officer, and therefore Komanov found it hard to believe that this grunt would risk being court marshaled due to something that wasn't serious. He tilted his head slightly and the contact waved him towards a nearby shack.  
  
Komanov approached the shack carefully, covertly drawing a Beretta XR20 laser pistol. He saw nothing, and turned back to the shrouded man, who motioned for him to go around the structure. It was only now that Komanov wondered why the contact hadn't bothered to take care of this "problem" before their meeting.  
  
He didn't have to think long about it, because what awaited him behind the dilapidated shack was a dead body wearing bits and pieces of the cloak he was supposed to wear while meeting Komanov. The major had found the contact, all right.  
  
Komanov dove across an alley and leapt over a fence into at one point in time had been a family's backyard. His coat snagged on the top of the fence, spilling him onto the ground. He furiously removed the garment and rolled behind the thick trunk of a still-standing tree, pistol ready to fire at anything that moved. Shortly after, the ground in front of him exploded into a cloud of dirt as it was hit by a laser shot.  
  
He had to escape, he knew, before the man who killed Virdelko's contact and then impersonated him got any closer. He didn't quite know why he was being attacked, but he figured there were plenty of groups who didn't like what his faction was up to. He'd have to show them up again, he decided.  
  
Komanov leapt out from behind his cover and darted down another alley. He made a left, a right, another right, and finally another left and threw himself against a wall of a large building that passed as the area's civic center. The alley branched forward and to the right of him, and he could clearly see both ways. He was near the outskirts of a former residential section, he knew, and if he could just get back to one of the main roads he'd find someone else immediately. At the moment, however, he doubted anyone would be up around here this late at night.  
  
As soon as he got up to move, a round from a blaster exploded into the wall where he had been. Drawing a sharp breath, Komanov spun to stare down the central alley. The shrouded figure was there, walking ever so slowly towards him, like the goddamn Grim Reaper. In his hand he held a very mighty looking firearm that was extended towards his form. Komanov reacted fast enough and dove to the side alley, but no shot followed. He paused ever so briefly, wondering what the hell this guy was up to. Was he just playing with him?  
  
Komanov took off again down the alley, and soon enough another laser crashed into the ground behind him. More followed this one, and as Komanov rapidly chose escape routes, he began to lose himself in the moment and lose all track of where he was. When he finally stopped he realized that he was quite lost.  
  
The shrouded figure, who had somehow kept up all this time though whenever Komanov saw him he was walking, appeared again, this time far closer to Komanov than ever before except when he had retrieved the papers from him…the papers! Komanov cursed reflexively; he realized that he had dropped them.  
  
The man in the tattered cloak stopped in his tracks just as Komanov came to his senses and raised his pistol. The army man fired and the figure rolled to the side, throwing the cloak off of him as he rose. The garments landed in a tattered heap and Komanov laid eyes on his attacker, a medium sized Reploid in black armor with very dark violet limbs. Komanov recognized him, but not by name or face. He just knew they had met before, and that meant…oh, shit.  
  
The look in the Reploid's eyes was poisonous. Obviously, their last meeting had been an unpleasant one. Komanov fired again, frantically, but the Reploid dodged the shots like a speed demon, each time coming closer and closer to the suddenly terrified Komanov. The human started backing up, and wound up tripping over his own feet. He screamed in both fear and defiance, shooting his blaster randomly over and over until he realized that he was alone. He stopped, panting, and pulled himself to his feet, a shaky wreck. Hope returned, flooding his senses, and he turned to make a dash to freedom. Then the hope died around him as the Reploid descended from some roof and landed fifty or so yards ahead of him like some falling angel of death, and at the same time a laser from the Reploid's blaster tore a gory hole through Komanov's throat.  
  
The human screamed, but it came out like a hoarse, revolting croak. He clutched at his throat, which spewed blood like a geyser, letting his weapon clatter to the ground. He sank to his knees, feeling his lifeblood fleeing him, and stared in abhorrence and wild confusion at his assassin. The Reploid let nothing but hate radiate from his own eyes, telling Komanov nothing. The soldier finally slipped into unconsciousness and eventually death as his blood ran out.  
  
Malevex expected some feeling of justification, or some kind of burden to be lifted from within him. It didn't happen. He stood there, watching the life leave that abhorrent man who'd caused so much to go wrong, and it meant nothing. It all meant nothing. He was filled with both supreme disappointment and supreme confusion. Gredam had described a completely different experience when he'd killed Thornton, and Komanov was just as guilty as the general had been, so why…?  
  
The Maverick shook his head as though clearing it, and at the same time he produced the papers he'd taken back from Komanov earlier. At least, he knew, this wasn't a total loss.  
  
Word of Komanov's assassination spread like wildfire among the intelligence community, and it wasn't long before it was time to send word to General Virdelko that another one of his lackeys had been taken out and secret papers lost. Since Virdelko was not in Megacity 5 any longer, the information first went to Colonel Alan Kitao, who was based in the Megacity Army's floating base Icarus, far from the killers below. Colonel Kitao quickly relayed word to General Virdelko, and upon receiving his orders, he decided quite against protocol that they were not enough. He sent a call out to untraceable sources, spreading word of a conference aboard Icarus that they and only they would be invited to. There he, Colonel Kitao, would take command of the situation and with his secret army at his side, vengeance would be wrought. 


	11. Leads

1 Chapter Ten: Leads  
  
Hope could die so incredibly fast.  
  
In the prior weeks, the fortress that the Maverick Army had occupied—known as "Seraph Castle" to them and their Hunter enemies—had been filled with hope, the hope that finally things were going to go their way. Commander Sigma had hinted of a glorious plan that, unlike the others, had been planned for a year in advance and was to be the final word in the wars. They couldn't achieve the complete expulsion of humans from Megacity 5 as they had originally wanted to, Sigma had told them. Not yet, anyway. They first had to weaken the forces of the Maverick Hunters, an army which had grown powerful enough to intercept anything the Mavericks might have thrown at them. Chiefly, X and Zero needed to die, but they seemed to bear charmed lives. Sigma had told them to forget about these two and try for the Hunters as a whole. By destabilizing their leadership and their defense capabilities, the victory the Mavericks had craved for more than a decade would fall upon them, X and Zero be damned.  
  
That was before that idiot Sigma had decided it'd be fun to take a walk in the quarry.  
  
Storm Eagle stretched out his instruments of flight, displaying to the world his entire, massive wingspan. Anyone looking at the roof of the easternmost tower of Seraph Castle would have seen him as a phoenix of light as the moonlight reflected off his polished armor. The intimidating wings receded back into their folded position and Storm twirled his clawed hands in the glare of the moon. He'd always found it interesting how the light played off his claws. He never tired of watching the blades that were so often bloody sparkle and gleam under any kind of light. He wondered as always if his enemies saw the same thing when those claws were swooping towards their throats.  
  
He'd come up here to try to escape from the depressing realities that now wafted through Seraph Castle in place of the hope that had bubbled within it just two days prior. Sigma's death seemed to have put everyone in a chokehold, and no one knew how to react. What would happen now? Would the Hunters find and invade their base? And more importantly, were the Mavericks going to just take this sitting down? What about revenge?  
  
Storm had grown tired of these questions from both his unit and others. The avian had found momentary solace on the roof, where the sky stretched out above him, twinkling with billions of easily seen stars and the crescent moon. It wasn't the stars and the moon that intrigued Storm as much as the sky itself. Even in this cold, mountainous region of the world, the sky seemed the warmest place. There was peace in the sky, where Storm could fly unrestrained for as long as he wanted, which was usually a very long time. There were other bird Mavericks, sure, but none had the specific love of flight that Storm Eagle did. His counterpart, Storm Owl, did do a bit of flying, but he preferred to stay on the ground and use the air only for surveillance and attack purposes. Cyber Peacock would take to the skies, too, but he just teleported and hovered. He could care less about the freedom the sky offered. It was almost therapeutic to Storm Eagle, and he had more than once spent entire weeks flying from one area to another, never with any real destination, but collecting his thoughts.  
  
But tonight, his heart just wasn't in it. He'd opted to just sit quietly on the roof of Seraph Castle, letting the expansive sky work its magic without his actually being in it. There was certainly a lot to think about.  
  
Immediately after Sigma fell, The Team had gathered all the Mavericks and escaped from the quarry. They'd returned with the survivors and quietly informed the top officers of what had happened. Those officers, which were Storm Eagle, Cyber Peacock, Boomer Kuwangner, Gravity Beetle, Bit, and Byte, and Revolver, had informed their troops of what had taken place and that The Team would be in charge for a little while. They were to do exactly what they told them to do in order to recover from this incident. This was fine with Storm Eagle, since he did believe that The Team knew what they were doing, but he still found it hard to trust them personally. Indeed, many of the Mavericks were having a lot of trouble trusting leadership to a group of officers that most of them had never seen before.  
  
From behind the Reploid avian, a bright flash of light exploded out of nowhere, briefly illuminating the entire rooftop. Even as the light died down, thin coils of wiry, multicolored energies were forming, crisscrossing each other, curving, and angling to form specific features, as though a picture were being drawn with each strain of energy. Another glow of light brimmed up inside the wire frame skeleton, filling it with a definite shape and figure. The entire show took about a second, and when it was over Cyber Peacock was on the roof with his comrade.  
  
Storm hadn't even twitched. He'd grown used to his ally's sudden appearances, and tilted his head back to acknowledge the new presence. "What's up?"  
  
"Much too much," Cyber replied in a distant tone, moving his lanky body towards the same place Storm sat. He didn't quite plop down, but rather descended as though floating. "The soldiers are not handling themselves very well."  
  
Storm shook his head slightly. "It's a shame, you know? We were more ready for this one than any other mission I can remember. Now what?"  
  
"Now," Cyber said with a shrug, "We wait for Sigma to return, I guess. You know he will." Storm nodded. They both found it hard to believe that Sigma hadn't kept a backup copy of himself laying around as usual, but still, it could take a very, very long time for the program to activate or for the "Sigma Virus" that Sigma's program latched onto whenever it was bodiless decided to take effect. "Until then," Cyber continued, voicing Storm's concerns, "we just count on those three big shots to keep us alive."  
  
"And the problem is that the troops don't feel confident serving leaders they don't know."  
  
"Well…" Cyber rested his head in his hand, thinking. "Most of them have had interaction with Gredam. He led most of the training programs. It's the other two that people don't know that well, and that isn't that big a deal, since Gredam seems to be the leader.  
  
"However," the peacock said with a slight grin, "we made sure that this unfortunate incident wouldn't set us back."  
  
"Who's 'we'?"  
  
"Oh, sorry. I met with Gredam, Gravity Beetle, and Revolver earlier. Grav has the components Revolver needed for his ship, and so construction will speed along there. In the meantime, The Team has the finer points set up for the second half of our project." A positively ghoulish grin broke out onto Cyber's beaky face. It set Storm on edge. "With the weapons that the attack ship Gallagher will have, the Hunters will never know what hit them."  
  
Storm blinked. "What did Revolver find for weapons?" Cyber told him. "Oh, my…that's almost too much."  
  
"That's the point," Cyber said with a snicker. "We'll teach the Maverick Hunters not to mess with our commanders, one way or another."  
  
The information Storm had just gained should have left the Maverick ecstatic. However, the weight of the information and the way Cyber had said it had instead allowed a hideous knot of dread to form inside Storm's metallic innards. Though he'd later remark how pointless it was, he prayed to whatever might watch over man and machine that The Team knew what they were doing.  
  
The corner of Megacity 5's slums nearest the bordering Catskill Mountains, which had retained their majesty throughout the decades, had always been a "nice, quiet slum". The residents there were more of the simple poor, not those who would cause trouble. Crime was remarkably low there, and the residents had taken comfort in that, though they still got the hell out whenever they had the money to do so.  
  
Now, the peace was disturbed by swarms of Maverick Hunter soldiers and local police authorities. Another murder had taken place, and again the victim was an army man. Not only did this seem to confirm the theory that the deaths of General Thornton and Major Komanov were linked, but were hardly common murder cases. So now the slum residents were smack dab in the middle of some conspiracy, and they didn't like that at all.  
  
The man who liked it least lived in the old apartment that doubled as a weapons shop. He'd rather liked living in the slum's obscurity, and for good reason, as his past and current activities certainly made him eligible for attention he couldn't survive. Old Mortar frowned gloriously as he slammed the door to his abode, retreating into his living room in the back of the apartment, and sitting down in front of his desk. Email wasn't trusted with the kind of information he was dealing with, and the Mavericks were using a top secret faxing program to convey their messages. Mortar held up the now-printed sheet of paper and glanced carefully over the message. Malevex had kept it short and sweet, as usual. It merely said "Required papers taken. Plan continues. Report your status." The last part was to make sure Mortar was okay, since the attack had taken place very near his home. Malevex hadn't been required to add that, but he had anyway. Mortar turned to the fax machine and was starting to send his response when he took note of his customers. He stifled a snarl and kept an eye on them, working slowly so that he had an excuse to stay in this vantage spot.  
  
Though crime was low in the slum, that didn't mean there was no crime to speak of. The criminals that did exist were generally petty, and they did know when to quit. Boris and Leonid, however, did not. The two Reploid thugs had crawled the slums for the whole of their forsaken lives, and Mortar would swear that the two got off simply by causing trouble. Both were moderately built and could be handled without too much trouble when it came down to violence, but they still could be troublesome for an aged Reploid like Mortar. The two had harassed the weapons dealer for a time frame going on two months now, and their last meeting had been less than pleasant. Boris had tried to distract Mortar while Leonid entered the shop, aiming to "get even" with the old Reploid. Mortar had kicked Boris's ass thoroughly with skills retained from years past, and had chased off Leonid with similar attacks. Getting thrashed by an old fart had both shocked and humiliated the two thieves, but it had also sparked their total wrath, and the fact that they were both in his shop again and proceeding further than customers were allowed told Mortar that they were finally ready to remove that stain from their name. And his shotgun was on the other side of the room…damn.  
  
"You're crossing the line," Mortar said simply, hauling himself out of the chair and setting the message down on the table next to him, "Customers are to stay in the front."  
  
"You crossed the line, too," Boris said as he strode purposefully towards Mortar, "A long time ago." Boris liked to think of himself as the brains behind the two-man group, but Mortar was positive that a human infant had problem solving skills that rivaled Boris's. The old Reploid was ready for Boris's move immediately, and pivoted to the right as he saw Boris's fist rise, stooping and extending both legs sharply into Boris's midsection. The thug let out a startled grunt and came at Mortar before the old soldier could pick himself off of the floor. This was fine. Mortar just swung his legs around in an arc and swept Boris's feet out from under him. He got to his feet just as Boris fell on his ass, but before Mortar could launch another attack Leonid grabbed him from behind, thrusting a fist into Mortar's already aching back and wrapping his arm firmly around the weapons vendor's throat. Mortar let out a choked snarl as Boris got back to his feet, grinning victoriously.  
  
"This'll teach you," he snickered. But no attack came. Instead, Boris started towards the shelves where Mortar kept his merchandise. Unnerved, Mortar watched the thief rip off several items and stuff them into his pockets. Mortar grinned to himself, as Boris was inadvertently picking the least expensive items in the shop. The grin melted into horror as Boris set his sights on the table near the fax machine. He wiped the expression off his face immediately, since even if Boris got a hold of Malevex's letter, what was in it that that thug could compute into logic? Nothing. But Boris saw the brief alarm in Mortar's eyes and, not knowing exactly what on the table was so important, picked up all the papers he could find and added them to the contents of his bulging pockets.  
  
"Is that a submachine gun in your pocket," Leonid quipped lamely, "Or are you just happy to-"  
  
"Shut up, Leo," Boris reprimanded harshly, "That was so unbelievably not funny." Leo's grip loosened ever so slightly as he fumed, and Mortar could have used the opportunity to break free, but he chose not to, figuring that these losers would be gone soon enough, so why start a needless brawl? "Listen up, old timer. You don't mess with us any more, you get it? This is what happens when you try to mingle with guys like us. You're lucky you're an old guy, else we'd beat the hell out of ya!"  
  
What bullshit! Mortar was positive he could destroy at least one of Boris's eye sockets with a sudden kick, even in this suspended position, but Leonid would probably strangle him to death. So he just nodded as much as Leo's deathgrip would allow, enduring the mind numbing rhetoric.  
  
It was only immediately after Leonid threw Mortar to the other side of the room and made a break for it with Boris that Mortar realized why he couldn't let those two live any longer. There were Maverick Hunters in this area. They were investigating a murder that was obviously linked to another one, and even though Boris wouldn't be able to make anything of Malevex's message, the Hunters would certainly be able to.  
  
So what was supposed to do about it?! Pulling himself together, Mortar made his way shakily back to the fax machine. It wasn't the first time Mortar had been roughed up by robbers, but generally the robbers weren't there with the sole purpose of beating up an old man. They'd wanted goods, plain and simple, and Mortar had been smart enough not to try and negotiate, at least until his shotgun was within range.  
  
Well, Malevex had wanted him to report his condition, right? The disgruntled and slightly nervous Maverick got to work on a reply that more or less informed his old friend that there were two thugs who needed killing, needed it good.  
  
But Cheng Yu was a step ahead of Mortar. A grizzled human of oriental descent, Cheng had lived in the slums for most of his life, and Mortar the weapons dealer had always been a thoroughly agreeable chap, and Cheng respected the guy for, if nothing else, his way of handling people he didn't want to be around. He was not afraid to stick up for himself or his companions in the slums, and stuff like that impressed Cheng Yu. The man, who had a family of his own, resented thieves and thugs and when he had heard sounds of a slight scuffle coming from Mortar's shop, he'd moved in to take a look. The sight of two thieves Cheng KNEW he had seen before around Mortar's place running off with a fair deal of merchandise meant only one thing, and Cheng Yu would frankly be damned if he let someone steal from Mortar. He knew there were Hunters around here, and they had been spreading word for anyone with any information to dial 999. Using his cellular phone, one of the few luxuries of his life, Cheng dialed 999 and alerted the Hunters that some thieves had made off with a local man's goods. Since he wasn't sure that the Hunters would really care, he threw in a tip that it might well be linked to the assassination, even though he had absolutely no reason to assume that. As he expected, the Hunters promised that they would get right on it.  
  
Delates really could care less about some robbery, but as it provided relief from the boredom of the patrol of the assassination grounds, he chose to accompany the authorities on their sudden mission to apprehend the culprits.  
  
Delates wasn't really sure he should even be on active duty. This was a simple assignment, granted, and even the freshly repaired Zero was using it to recover, but Delates still had a lot of things going on inside his head. Unit 0's sniper had been fairly shocked to learn of the demise of his best friend Sol, and still hadn't quite gotten over that shock. Part of it stemmed from the fact that the two had been drinking and plotting happily at a bar, and then roughly an hour later one of them was dead. It was too sudden. But it was still a reality, and Delates hated it. Death was something he faced every day as a soldier, but he and Sol had gotten through their trials together and had become, in effect, blood brothers. Many Hunters had these kinds of bonds, and when one died, the other was deeply troubled. Though it was too soon after the quarry battle for Delates to have had a great deal of interaction with the rest of the Unit, he knew they would be seeing a change in him. He felt sobered up, as though the world were no longer terribly inviting or adventurous. Zero had warned his men time and time again that lack of adventure led to a fairly pointless life, and so Delates really hoped that this was just a phase. However, aside from Zero himself, no one else in Delates's unit seemed particularly open to a conversation about these things, and Delates frankly wouldn't feel right having such a deep conversation with his commander, even though everyone in the Unit more or less felt equal to each other, Commander Zero included.  
  
But for now, maybe he could vent his frustration on some punks. The anonymous caller had placed the culprits to the east of their position, and sure enough, after some searching, they came across two indigent Reploids giddily going over some items, papers, and other prizes in the protective shadow of a back alley.  
  
Realizing that a troupe of Maverick Hunters was quite suddenly breathing down their necks, Boris and Leonid made one of the few intelligent moves of their lives: they dropped their merchandise and ran like hell. Delates sprinted after them, and when the two parted ways at a fork in the alley, Delates inadvertently picked Boris to follow, who was much faster than Leonid in a sprint. Also to the thugs' credit, they knew the back alleys of the slum better than the Hunters ever would, and so it wasn't a fairly long time before a frantic Boris eluded Delates's pursuit. Maybe if Boris were a registered Maverick, or Delates had been feeling more vengeful than mournful, the Hunter might have had the fire needed to catch the thug, but frankly Delates didn't care a great deal about the chase, since the thugs had already dropped what they had stolen. Upon rendezvousing with his allies, he learned that Leonid had also managed to escape capture. They returned to the pile of stolen goods and to his surprise, the policeman who had been going through them had a piece of paper ready for him to look at.  
  
"Looks like we may finally have found our lead," the officer said as he handed over the faxed message. Delates read it over twice, which didn't take very long, but while he of course didn't know exactly what the message meant, he had his obvious suspicions.  
  
"Commander Zero will want to see this."  
  
The commander in question was in even worse shape than Delates was. Zero had recovered easily from the wounds he'd sustained at the quarry, but the mental shock of coming face to face with Mea's killer, someone he had accepted as already dead, was great enough that the effects were still wearing on his mind. Perhaps if he'd been able to kill the Maverick, the mental strain would have been less. However it was no use thinking of "what ifs" at this point.  
  
Zero linked his fingers behind his head and gazed offhandedly at the by now cleaned up alleyway. He'd come out here to do something while the rest of his Unit recuperated. After that he'd have to talk to them, he knew. If Delates's reaction to the deaths of Sol and Katana was bad, he imagined the others' would be, too. But he reminded himself that he'd want to throw in a lot of congratulations. They had killed Sigma, after all, even though the identity of the one who'd pulled the trigger was still a mystery.  
  
When he saw Delates and company returning, he walked up to meet them. Delates broke away from the others and went directly to his commander, while the others went to wrap up their other duties.  
  
"I think we might have something," Delates said as he handed Zero the note he'd acquired from Boris and Leonid. Zero took it and read it. "It could be nothing, of course, but still…"  
  
Zero's head came back up and he raised an eyebrow. "I'd say this is worth looking into." The crimson plated Reploid turned to speak with one of the technicians, who had just been starting to pack up for the trip home. He grumpily unloaded some of his tools again and pointed something out for Zero. The Hunter nodded thanks and left the grumpy technician alone.  
  
"What was that about?"  
  
"When we got the call alerting us about those thieves," Zero explained, "the first thing we did was trace it. It came from a cellular phone, so we of course have no idea where the caller is right now, but we do know approximately where the call was placed." The Reploid did a quick scan of the area. There were actually only three Hunters still here, and one was busy filling out reports for the police based on what the investigation had turned up. So much red tape… "Come on, Delates, we'll go check it out."  
  
"Alone?" asked the junior Hunter, skeptically.  
  
A shrug. "You don't think we'll be enough?"  
  
"No, no…" A small grin appeared on Delates's face. "What are we waiting for?"  
  
"I'm tellin' you, man!" Leonid barked at Boris, "This is getting pretty stupid, already!"  
  
"Shut UP!" Boris barked back, trudging ahead of his companion on the road to wherever they were going, "That old bastard called those Hunters on us. You gonna let him win AGAIN?"  
  
"For God's SAKE!" Leonid threw up his arms in exasperation. "It don't MATTER! You're the one who wanted to do all this, not me. No siree, I was perfectly happy sitting in my apartment and watchin' TV, but here comes ol' Boris, wanting to know if I wanted to go settle an old score that was 'pretty important'. So I come, and guess what Boris didn't tell me until there was no going back? We were goin' after some old fart that exposed us to mild humiliation! Yeah, that's REAL important, Boris."  
  
"ANY embarrassment out here is deadly!" Boris all but spat, "Don't you get that?! You saw what happened to your goddamn brother! You gonna let that happen to you, too?" He'd stuck a nerve and he knew it. Leonid grumbled obscenities, and Boris figured it would be wise for him to stay far away from his comrade for a while once they finished this job.  
  
"I don't see the point in killin' him." Leonid wouldn't back down there. "Even roughin' him up is childish."  
  
"Everyone knows him," Boris insisted, "And therefore they all know us, too. They know us as bungling idiots. You know how many opportunists might come after us, with that reputation?"  
  
"So I'll kill THEM. Not some merchant."  
  
"Ugh, you're far too overconfident…" Boris finally stopped walking and dug up a package from underneath a pile of trashcans. Frankly, it was the last place even Leonid would touch, so he could understand why Boris had hidden his parcel there.  
  
"Wuzzat?"  
  
"This?" Boris motioned to the wrapped package. "This is a present for Mortar. Since you refuse to kill him, we have to do SOMETHING else to remove these stains from our names, so this'll do the trick nicely." Leonid just stared. For the first time he could remember, he didn't trust Boris. Boris had never been so obsessed with revenge, especially on an old guy, even if he was a strong old guy, Leonid recalled with a wince. Boris, however, didn't seem to notice his comrade's stare, and spun on his heel and went off towards Mortar's shop. Leonid frowned gloriously. He should turn and walk away right then and there, he knew. Let Boris do whatever thrilled him. Mortar was certainly no friend of Leonid's, and if Boris wanted to harass him, then more power to him. However even though Boris had more or less said that murder was out of the question now, Leonid still didn't fully believe it. Killing Mortar would only make the people around here hate Leonid and Boris even more. It wouldn't earn them any respect. Leonid thought briefly about his brother, crippled in a bar fight and killed by thugs a few weeks later who capitalized on his disability.  
  
Leonid could afford to be hated as long as he was feared, but he was not feared, therefore he could not afford to be hated. He started after Boris, wondering what, if anything, he was going to have to do.  
  
Neither of the two realized that they were being watched. Crouched behind a building nearby was a Reploid with sparse black armor that bore the Maverick insignia on the right, globed epaulet. In his hands he held a precision rifle with its safety off. This sniper, Diavus, was the only Maverick in the area who could respond quickly to Mortar's earlier request for a termination squad to eliminate Boris and Leonid. He'd trailed them this far and now that he'd positively identified them, it was time to move in for the kill. He began to look for a perch.  
  
Mortar had realized the possibility of a Hunter knocking at his door, but never did he imagine that the Hunter would be Zero. The old Reploid hid the part of his shock that came from fear and freely displayed the surprise that came from the significance of the person on his doorstep. It put Zero slightly at ease, and since the last thing Mortar wanted was a tense champion Hunter in his home, this was a good thing.  
  
"Does this have anything to do with the robbery?" Mortar asked, figuring that playing dumb would only incriminate him, since if the Hunters didn't know about the robbery, they would soon enough.  
  
"Actually, it does," Zero nodded thanks as Mortar escorted him inside. The Hunter produced a slip of paper. It was the telegram from Malevex, as Mortar knew it would be. Zero read it aloud and waited for a facial response from Mortar, but the old Reploid gave no sign that he was disturbed by the Hunter's possession of the note. "This was found with the goods retrieved from the criminals who burglarized your store…goods that will soon be returned to you, sir."  
  
"Thank you," Mortar replied, a bit impressed that a high and mighty Hunter like Zero would use "sir". "I suppose you're curious about the note, hmm?"  
  
"Yes." On normal days, Zero would probably have felt a bit awkward about entering an old man's house and interrogating him so openly, but today he just wanted to go home and go to bed, so he spoke bluntly. "The recent attacks in these slums make it important for us to know what this note could mean."  
  
Mortar nodded. "I understand. It's quite harmless, really. A chap from the Sub City 2 building company, Zimmerhauf, has been consorting with me recently about constructing a retreat up in the Catskills. We're old pals, you see. He's always been looking for a spot to take his kids on vacation, and since I have a bit of knowledge of the mountains, as well as some spare change, we began to collaborate." Mortar began ticking off the items on the note one by one. "When he came to meet me yesterday I was out, so he took the papers he needed for the real estate closing. He left me that note to inform me, and that our plan hasn't been cut short by some stupid lawyer. 'Report your status' should be obvious."  
  
A nod. "What is this man's name?"  
  
"David Hardig," said Mortar, fabricating the name on the spot and with such unfaltering speech as that Zero had no idea it was a lie. "It's worded quite crazily, I know, but Dave was in the army once. He likes to use that jargon."  
  
Zero nodded again, turning over the information in his head. Anxious to leave though he was, he did analyze the data enough to find it acceptable except for a few details that didn't quite settle. He puzzled over them while trying to appear as though he was recording the information in his head so Mortar wouldn't get nervous.  
  
The problem with the story, Zero decided, was that, for one, if Mortar was out of his house yesterday at any time, and had a note like this one showing up, Zero was very interested in the Reploid's activities. The other, more glaring problem was one that any one else might have missed entirely. Zero didn't know why he had locked onto it, and he didn't even know if it was a real problem. The thing was, the Zimmerhauf Company that this David Hardig supposedly worked for hadn't constructed any domestic houses for as long as Zero could remember, and he only knew that because he'd looked into their company recently in search of Cyber Peacock's money laundering Internet programs.  
  
Something didn't quite measure up.  
  
Boris had started working on the gizmo a few minutes ago. He'd removed whatever he'd been carrying from its package and started attaching it to the back wall of Mortar's store. Leonid hadn't gotten a real good look at it, but it looked like a big wad of clay, wires, and some plastic.  
  
"Anyone coming?" Boris asked for the third time.  
  
"No," Leonid said lazily, much more interested in whatever Boris was up to than whether or not they were being tailed, "What is that thing?"  
  
"I already said! It's an electromagnetic scrambler. It'll mess up everything electric in this place for weeks!"  
  
Leonid frowned. This seemed even more childish than attacking Mortar. That and he fully didn't believe it was an electromag…whatever Boris had called it. "Look, man," he started, "This is just gonna piss people off more at us. Drop it, and let's go."  
  
Boris spun around. "I'm getting tired of you, Leo. You're way too soft. Do you WANT to end up like your brother?" He spun back to the device.  
  
"Drop it." This time it was an order. Boris turned, more slowly this time, and fixed Leonid with an interested stare.  
  
"Excuse me? I was right? You DO want to end up like…"  
  
"Leave him out of it." Leonid saw Boris in a different light now. He was stupid and dumb. While they weren't the best adjectives in the world, they were the best Leonid could think of. He would not be a part of his stupid antics anymore, and if he let his happen, he would be hated anyway, because people associated him with Boris already. Time to stop all this.  
  
Diavus the sniper was more than ready to help Leonid stop all this. He was perched on the balcony of an abandoned apartment, well hidden and set up exactly how he had been trained back at Seraph Castle. Only the slight gleam of his rifle, which had been fitted with a scope, indicated that he was there, and there was nothing he could do about that.  
  
The Hunters might still be in the area, he knew, and even if they weren't they would be as soon as they heard of more chaos in this section of the city. He had to do this quickly, quietly, and professionally. He sighted in on the taller one of the thieves that his superior, Malevex, had told him to assassinate. The tall thief, Leonid, had apparently done something to piss off Boris, because the latter was jumping around and saying bad things. Diavus relaxed his synthetic muscles and prepared to fire.  
  
Slight as the gleam of the sniper rifle was, it was enough for Delates. The Hunter, a sniper himself, knew well enough what the gleam was, and he detected it easily from his spot outside the side door of Mortar's shop, where Zero had told him to stand watch. The spot was well out of Diavus's line of sight, and Delates couldn't see where the sniper was aiming, but the more he looked, the more he could make out the sniper and his rifle, and from the way it was angled, it looked like it could easily fire at the back end of the building. Delates knew there was a window there, and if the sniper could see through the window, there was a chance he could see Zero, too, and with things the way they had been lately...  
  
Delates darted around the building to where he could get a better shot at the sniper. Even as he ran his left arm was whirring and spinning, converting from a fist to a wide-barreled arm cannon, something he did not use frequently. Delates raised it towards the balcony where the sniper was nested and started shooting. Large rays of golden plasma streaked up from Reploid to Reploid, and the projectiles slammed against the apartment that served as Diavus's nest. The sniper was caught off guard and fired one wild shot at his targets, missing both thieves completely. Diavus rocked backwards and fell into the shadows, just as another blaze of plasma exploded in a fury of sparks where his head had been. Frantic that something had happened to Mortar, whom he knew owned the shop right next to this building and whom he knew The Team would be unhappy with him for letting die, he leapt from the apartment balcony and landed with a metallic thunk on the ground. He wove around the alleyways as Delates did the same, and the two narrowly missed each other at a back alley crossroad. Diavus went through a few more alleys and arrived at the side door of the weapon shop just before Delates did.  
  
"What the hell was that?!" Leonid all but shouted, pointing to where a plasma bullet had exploded, two inches from his foot.  
  
"It's the Hunters!" Boris growled, forgetting all about his project and withdrawing a pistol from his pocket. "That old man called the Hunters on us! We're dead, now!"  
  
"What?" Leonid said blankly, "Slow down! Don't jump to con—hey! I said wait!"  
  
Boris waved him off and darted towards the back entry of the shop, preparing to shoot off the lock with his pistol.  
  
Before the carnage had started, Zero had just started to ask Mortar a few questions about the parts of his story that the crimson one was having trouble believing. Mortar was answering them believably, but for some reason Zero was still curious and was about to ask another question.  
  
Then, a bunch of stuff happened.  
  
The back door of the shop shuddered and shot open with a bang that shook the whole building. A scruffy looking Reploid ran inside, a smoking pistol in his hand. Zero instinctively shifted to battle mode, his saber appearing in his hand. The enemy Reploid was shooting and screaming at the same time, like a madman.  
  
"You bastard!" he shouted, apparently at Mortar, "Had to call in the Hunters to deal with us! You won't take me down without a fight!" It wouldn't be a long fight, Zero was sure. He replaced his saber and converted his arm into a cannon. Mortar, on the other hand, decided that things were going to get very ugly, and made a dash for the side door. Zero wouldn't have noticed any of the crucial things that happened next if a bigger Reploid hadn't barged through the back door and clubbed the mad Reploid on the back of the head. The momentary lapse of gunfire allowed Zero to focus on the retreating blur that was Mortar, and he would have given chase. However, the side door opened before Mortar got to it and a Reploid in black armor charged clear into the old man, spilling them both on the ground. The new Reploid had the insignia of the Mavericks on his shoulder.  
  
"S…sorry, sir!" he stammered, getting to his feet. Then he saw Zero and wisely ran, expecting Mortar to follow, but the old Reploid had been more dazed by the collision than Diavus had anticipated, and so the Maverick fled alone.  
  
For Zero, a Maverick calling Mortar "sir" in the military fashion meant that Mortar still had a lot to talk to Zero about. But for the moment, he focused on the other two threats in the room. He raised his cannon just as he saw Boris about to fire at the dazed Mortar.  
  
Leonid jumped clear into Boris and threw his full weight into the attack. "I SAID NO KILLING, YOU JACKASS! WHAT IS WRONG WITH—" A charged bolt of plasma that had been meant for Boris buried itself in Leonid's chest, throwing the thief back against the wall. He choked on his own vital fluids, gazing at the gaping hole in his chest in shock. The shock broadened when he raised his eyes to see who had slain him, and then he slumped to the floor.  
  
Zero had figured both Reploids to be enemies, and so wasn't fazed by hurting Leonid instead of Boris. Boris, however, was very good at running away, even when it meant leaving a friend's corpse behind. He screamed something indecipherable as he ran out the back door, just as another of Zero's shots followed him out the door.  
  
Zero swore loudly, rushing to the back of the shop. The Reploid on the floor looked pretty dead, and if he wasn't, the coolant leaking out of his body indicated that he soon would be. Zero felt a bit funny, suddenly, as though he'd so shot the wrong person. But this one had been armed too, he realized, and no one would argue the confusion of the last few moments. In the chaos he had also noticed Delates running after the Maverick who had crashed into Mortar, and so that meant the two of them were alone for now.  
  
"Well, 'sir'," Zero said in a tone less cordial than he had used earlier, "I'd say you have some serious explaining to do."  
  
Mortar groaned. He was dead meat. There really was no point in resisting, since he knew his old body wouldn't hold out long, and Zero already had enough evidence against him.  
  
Then another thought ferreted its way into his head, and he almost smiled. Zero wanted an explanation? Well by God, he'd get it! And he'd never know what hit him. An earlier conversation with Gredam danced across his mind, justifying his new course of action.  
  
"Don't worry if the Hunters put you into a lose/lose situation. Turn it against them by telling the truth. It'll blow them away, and they won't believe a word of it. Then they'll do some investigation, confirm everything, and then there'll be more internal chaos than you can imagine. Why haven't we told them yet? Simple, it'd seem fabricated if we just waltzed up to them and told them. In a special situation, like an interrogation, it'd work wonders. Use it as a weapon."  
  
The conversation had been so long ago that Mortar hadn't even considered it, especially since he'd never counted on getting caught. Now, however, the truth did seem like an effective weapon. It wouldn't damage the plans his comrades had in the mix at all, so why not open Pandora's box for Zero?  
  
"All right," he said wearily, looking up from the floor to the Hunter. "What do you want to know…?" 


	12. Puppet Masters

1 Chapter Eleven: Puppet Masters  
  
Boris shivered violently, pressing his cold body up against the wall for support. He'd fall over if he pulled away. The thug had not expected things to go like this at all. He was just going to take out a threat, that was all. Leonid wasn't supposed to die. But then again, Zero of the Maverick Hunters wasn't supposed to be sitting in the shop, either. The ultimate blow was that Leonid had taken a shot, whether he knew it or not, that had been intended for Boris.  
  
The Reploid urchin stared down at the gun in his hands. He'd screwed up, big time. He'd charged like a cavalier into a situation that was obviously more than he could handle—snipers were shooting, for God's sake!—and a lifelong comrade had gotten killed because of it. It'd be easy for him to end his worthless life now, he knew. He was doomed, anyway. He'd opened fire on the leader of the Maverick Hunters…if they hadn't considered him a Maverick before, they would now. He bet that Mortar would make sure that Zero knew everything Boris had done, just so the old man could have the last laugh.  
  
The gun shook in his trembling hand. Give the old man the last laugh? Why should he do that?  
  
The gun shook again, and he locked his gaze on it. But then again, this was a painless way out. Who knew what Zero would do to him? He didn't deserve to live anyway.  
  
The gun continued to rattle in Boris's palm until the Reploid clamped it in an ice grip. He was far too scared of getting killed to ever kill himself, he realized, but didn't exactly admit that realization to himself. He couldn't live with the thought that he was afraid. But he couldn't kill himself, either. What a losing situation!  
  
"But why should I give that old bastard the last laugh?!" Boris growled to himself, "How dare he call the Hunters in, like I'm some kind of genocidal maniac! The Hunters deal with terrorists! I'm just a guy tryin' to survive!"  
  
He stopped talking to himself, staring down at the gun. Then his vision began to shift. His eyes shifted involuntarily towards the wall on the side of the building, as though he were in a trance. Boris blinked twice in a combination of enlightenment and determination. Of course!  
  
He glared back at the gun and whirled around, throwing the weapon with all his force into the wall of some abandoned apartment. The firearm didn't break or go off, and merely gave off a loud crack as it hit the stone bricks, clattering to the ground. Boris strode purposefully towards the device he'd been setting up earlier, when the sniper had fired and he and Leonid had rushed in to take care of Mortar.  
  
It still hadn't occurred to Boris that Leonid had been trying to take care of HIM.  
  
But that wasn't the point. What he had before him was not an "electromagnetic scrambler", as he had told Leonid. To his knowledge, such a gizmo didn't even exist. No, this was something far better than what he'd told his suddenly pacifistic friend. The man he'd bought it from, a short Reploid in midnight blue armor, had called it a plastique. When Boris had made it clear that he didn't understand, the merchant had clarified that it was a plastic explosive. Boris didn't know much about fancy things like bombs, but he had heard of plastic explosives, and he knew how devastating one could be. He imagined that this one would take out at least half of Mortar's shop, and hopefully it would take out the old bastard himself. Maybe even Zero, Boris thought with a grin.  
  
The thug retrieved the miniature manual from a pocket of his tattered coat and fished around on the ground for the screw and wire he was using to set the thing up before all the commotion started. He could do this.  
  
"Don't worry, Leonid," he breathed as he got to work, "He'll be coming to join you, soon."  
  
Maverick sniper Diavus was not having one of his better days.  
  
For one, he'd failed to take out either of the two targets he'd been assigned to eliminate. Even worse, he'd screwed up royally by addressing Mortar in front of a Maverick Hunter…especially THAT Maverick Hunter. Not to mention that he'd inadvertently blocked his superior's escape route. He was fairly certain he couldn't return to base and give Gredam, Malevex, and Teytha THAT report, so he had to do something about it.  
  
Which brought him to the third problem. The Hunter who'd screwed up his sniping job earlier was still chasing him around the back alleys. The Hunter had probably called for some kind of reinforcements, even though Diavus hadn't picked anything up on his frequency scanner. The frequency scanners were fairly new technology that capitalized on old bugging methods of the past, meaning those equipped with the scanners could intercept non- coded radio transmissions. He wished he had something to intercept the plasma bursts that the Hunter kept throwing at him.  
  
Diavus had finally taken refuge in a tall apartment complex and hid out on one of the middle floors. He'd lost the Hunter a few turns back, so the head start had allowed him to slip into the building undetected, but he had little doubt that the Hunter would soon be upon him. He clutched his rifle to his side, looking for the best window. Hopefully, he could pick the Hunter off if he saw him coming.  
  
If not, well…it'd been a while since he'd had a good fight.  
  
Delates darted frantically in and out of open buildings, looking for the Maverick. Even though the Maverick hadn't really done anything to instigate such a heated pursuit on his part, he still felt angry enough about Sol that dismembering any old Maverick would do. However he also recognized that linking any Maverick to something going on around here could explain a lot about the killings that had taken place recently.  
  
He was using a fairly faulty scanner to detect the Reploid's presence, but it would give a faint bleep if he got close enough. He'd raced down enough streets to realize that the Maverick had to have darted into a building. If the enemy had teleported, Delates would have known about it. That was one thing his scanner would pick up without a doubt. Plus, Delates didn't think teleportation was possible around here. The process was a lot more complicated than people thought. Unless you had a special capsule of some sort, you had to teleport in certain places only because of the connection between teleportation and cosmic occurrences. A "misfire" in the trajectory of a solar flare somewhere up there could scramble your components as you traveled, resulting in a less than perfect reformation. That was why the Hunters hadn't just teleported to the quarry that night, since the quarry area was unfit for teleportation.  
  
He dashed in and out of building after building until a new thought took him. He stopped doing anything altogether and just sat in one spot. Maybe, just maybe, if the Maverick thought he had given up, he'd show his face…  
  
Delates frowned as he stared out the window of an extremely ratty old house. At least no one was home here. He'd surprised a few people already, but he'd just tilted his shoulder pad so they could see the Hunter emblem and ran out of their house when the scan was complete. This whole thing wasn't fun at all.  
  
He hoped things were going easier for Zero…  
  
Mortar sat down in a manner that to Zero looked unbelievably uneasy. The old soldier's joints creaked so much that Zero had half a mind to help him, but he forced himself not to, knowing he had to be fairly stern if he wanted to get anything out of this guy. Frankly, he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if he was forced to send an old guy to Caligula's interrogators.  
  
The crimson Hunter had made the suggestion that they both sit down, rather than talk with Mortar still sprawled out on the floor. Mortar had climbed steadily to his feet in a fiercely independent manner, knowing that Zero thought he was rusty as a sunken ship but not caring. Mortar had sat down in his own easy chair and waved Zero to the nearby couch. Zero stared at it for a second and sat down instead in the second chair Mortar owned.  
  
Mortar's eyes crinkled up in a sign of disapproval. "Really, such signs of distrust aren't needed. I don't have any booby traps laying around."  
  
"Forgive me," Zero said coolly, "if I seem a little mistrusting."  
  
Mortar's lips curled into a frown as he stared hard at Zero. "You're not going to believe a word of this." It was more of a pained realization than a statement or a question, though Zero kept his face impassive.  
  
"If it's the truth, what have I got to lose by believing it?"  
  
"Ah…" Mortar said wispily, his voice falling a few notches. "And how will you know if it is the truth, hmm?"  
  
This time Zero's eyes did narrow. "I've been doing this for a long time, Mr. Mortar. I'll know if you're lying to me or not."  
  
The Maverick leaned back in his chair, chewing on that, and from the doubtful expression that soon came over his face he didn't like it too much. "So then…what is it you want to know from me?"  
  
"The works." Zero gave an emotionless half-smile, crossing his arms over his legs and leaning forward. "Cooperate now, and there will be a hell of a lot less crap for you later on."  
  
"You say that now," Mortar said in the same wispy tone as before, "but I can't believe you."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"You're a Hunter."  
  
Zero rolled his eyes and took sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest now. "Look, I don't have the time or patience for the 'I'm a Maverick, you're a Hunter, one or both of us must die' spiel right now, okay? I want answers, not blood, and I want them now."  
  
"No, no, you misunderstood," Mortar said with some very mild amusement. "You're a Hunter."  
  
Zero blinked. He didn't think he'd misunderstood at all, and still didn't see any error. "Yes, I am. Very perceptive of you, there."  
  
"It has nothing to do with my affiliation in the conflict," Mortar explained, sort of. "You are a Hunter. You're not to be taken seriously under any conditions."  
  
Zero frowned inwardly. He knew that the reputation of the Hunters wasn't very great in some areas, but he'd had no idea it had gotten this bad in the slums. "Surely someone as wizened as a guy your age would know better than to resort to stereotyping."  
  
He was still missing the point entirely, not that Mortar could blame him. "Fine…I'll ask again. What do you want to know?"  
  
"I'll answer again," Zero replied, growing vaguely annoyed. "The works. We'll start with that note. Tell me who and where it came from, and what it means. And don't spout any bullshit about corporations and real estate."  
  
"Fair enough," said Mortar with a neutral expression. "The note was from the Mavericks. They had collected files they needed. Their plan is still being formed. My status is perfectly cheery."  
  
"Look," said Zero, his hopes of a speedy interrogation going down the toilet with a big whoosh, "Unpleasant as you think I am, there are far worse in the business…"  
  
"Don't I know it," Mortar snorted in interruption.  
  
Zero blinked in annoyance. "What is that supposed to mean? Stop being so goddamned cryptic! Oh hell, forget it. The note, smart ass, the note. WHO sent you that note? I don't want to hear 'a Maverick', got it?"  
  
Mortar shrugged with equal annoyance. "You think I know everyone I get mail from? Do YOU? I correspond with the Mavericks. Not any Maverick in particular."  
  
"Fine," Zero nearly growled, knowing that was indeed how the Mavericks usually worked, "What files were taken?"  
  
"Lists, a portfolio…I don't know, I just keep the stuff for them. I don't actually read it."  
  
"Convenient…what plan?"  
  
"That I know even less about. Whatever it was, Sigma's death put a stop to it." Mortar inwardly smiled. If he could convince Zero of that, this day would be a great victory. "Maybe when he comes back they'll be able to rally enough internal support to get it going again…you know how it is."  
  
Zero nodded not so much in agreement but to keep the conversation moving. "What do you know about the man who was killed here?"  
  
Mortar frowned. "Why would I know something?"  
  
"We know General Thornton and Major Komanov were killed by Mavericks," Zero lied, "You're a Maverick sitting in the vicinity. You know something. Now what do you know?"  
  
Mortar spoke in as even a tone as before. "They had it coming if they were, you know. They weren't very pleasant people, I hear, very power hungry, they slaughtered hundreds of innocent Reploids, and to top it off, they were ugly."  
  
Zero was about to launch into his next question before he realized what Mortar had just said. "Excuse me…?"  
  
Mortar blinked innocently. "Did I stutter…?"  
  
This time Zero glared. He didn't appreciate it when people played mind games with him…he was messed up enough as it was, he figured. "You said they had slaughtered hundreds of innocent Reploids. Care to elaborate?"  
  
"Not really," Mortar said simply. "It's very unpleasant, and you wouldn't appreciate the stain on the Hunter name."  
  
Zero almost rolled his eyes again. "What? Some great big conspiracy that entwines the great and noble Hunters?" Even though Mortar knew well what Zero thought of Mavericks, that last statement told him at least that Zero wasn't as deluded as some about the Hunters' role in society.  
  
"Actually…?" Mortar said quizzically.  
  
Zero sighed heavily and stood up in his chair. "Conspiracy theories. Great. I told you I didn't have time for some old wives tale! You don't want to talk to me, then I got other people who will listen."  
  
"I told you, you wouldn't believe me."  
  
"Cute." Zero opened a compartment on his wrist armor, prepared to punch in the codes for a direct line to HQ. He'd get a squad to pick Mortar up and after a night of talks, maybe the Hunters would know something new.  
  
"You're telling me you wouldn't believe something if it put a stain on the Hunter name, hmm?"  
  
"I told you," said an irritated Zero as he punched in most of the code, "If it's the truth, I'll believe it. But all you've got is some half- baked story that you could have cooked up in the five minutes you were sitting here stalling, just like that Zimmerhauf bullshit!"  
  
"Do you want to know who killed Mea, Zero?"  
  
The very air died with that simple statement. Zero's finger stopped a hair's length away from the "Send" button on his communicator and the rest of him seemed to lock up for a half second before his mind started churning out the million questions as to how Mortar could have known anything about that. He choked on his own breath, then regained his composure…very slightly…and turned stiffly towards Mortar. Now it was his voice that was wispy. "How do you know about that?"  
  
For his part, Mortar was feeling very smug. He'd been so damn fortunate to have Zero here interrogating him, rather contrary to what he'd thought earlier; otherwise he doubted he'd never have hooked the attention of a Hunter. And he'd sunk that hook in deep, he knew. Zero looked like he'd seen a ghost or twenty, and whatever else, Mortar knew that the Hunter would believe pretty much anything he was told for a good while. Since the truth so often hurt, Mortar decided to give it to him.  
  
"I asked first," said Mortar, coolly. "Do you want to know who killed your friend, all those years ago?"  
  
Each word seemed to sink into Zero more than the last. The Hunter sank back into his chair, his shock still apparent on his face. He stared quietly at the ground for a second before focusing himself and meeting Mortar's eyes with his own and responding quietly. "I already know who killed her. He's one of your kind." Zero continued on for good measure without blinking, his voice steadily becoming stronger. "I was this close to decapitating him a few nights ago. Believe me, I know who killed Mea."  
  
Strong as Zero's voice was becoming, Mortar knew the Hunter was still wallowing in confusion. He played on it before the opportunity passed. "You know who pulled the trigger. You don't know who killed her."  
  
Zero seemed to shiver with frustration, his glare becoming more piercing, but still uncertain. "Why is there a difference? HE pulled the trigger and HE killed her!"  
  
Now Mortar's eyes were the ones that became piercing. "Yes, he did that. But he did not want her to die."  
  
Zero blinked, somewhat aware of where this was going, but still too overwhelmed to dwell on anything but whatever came first to his mind. "What? Did he expect it to TICKLE her?! Was it just a joke? Shooting people in the head generally means you want to kill them!" Zero realized with an unsettling jolt that he was very quickly losing his composition. If he wasn't careful, the Maverick would walk all over him.  
  
"The one who killed Mea," Mortar went on without changing his tone of voice, though his eyes conveyed complete seriousness that Zero, in his trance, couldn't help but believe, "is no longer with us. His name was Timofey Komanov."  
  
Zero leaned back even further, allowing the explanation to sink into place. "How could Komanov have killed Mea…?"  
  
Mortar frowned. He'd dazed Zero even more than he'd thought. "Come on, you know what I mean. The week before your Olympiad, Timofey Komanov forced the man in dark armor to kill Mea with a sniper's bullet. The man you think so ruthlessly killed your friend was nothing more than a pawn. The real killer was sitting behind a desk and choking on a cigar."  
  
Zero sucked in a deep breath, turning the information over in his head. "Komanov was an army man…he had nothing to do with the Hunters. Why would he…? And why her? She didn't do anything wrong."  
  
"No one did," said Mortar darkly, "They just existed, and they were killed for it."  
  
"By who?" Zero asked next, getting his questions all mixed up and out of order but not caring.  
  
"We pulled the triggers," Mortar said with a shrug. "But they are the murderers."  
  
"'We', 'they', be more specific, already!" Zero snapped, an edge of hostility returning to his voice, though he was still sufficiently hooked, Mortar saw.  
  
"Humans hate Reploids," said Mortar, and just as Zero thought the old man was about to launch into the worn out Maverick dogma about human inferiorities and evils, he stopped him cold, "and Reploids hate humans. The only difference is, the Reploids are justified in their hatred. You know how the human mind works, Zero. They fear the unknown. We do, too, because we are made in their image."  
  
"Stop beating around the bush," Zero said, with none of the forcefulness he'd intended, "Who and what are you talking about?"  
  
Mortar paused briefly, himself very nervous all of a sudden. All his life he'd wanted to tell some Hunter about all this stuff, because aside from killing the guilty party themselves, this was the only way to get revenge. Until now he'd never thought it possible. He had to organize his story well so Zero would believe it.  
  
"Fine, I'll start from the beginning…" Mortar shifted in his creaky way until he got comfortable. Zero unconsciously did the same. "The Maverick Hunters were in existence long before the first Reploid War began, as you know. At first, they started out as just a peacekeeping force. But then more Reploids started signing on, and more Mavericks started turning up. The organization got bigger."  
  
I know, Zero wanted to say, This is obvious, tell me what I really want to know. But he said nothing. He just listened.  
  
"You were governed over by political leaders and the Megacity 5 army that put you together in the first place," Mortar continued. "Most of the soldiers didn't have much to do with the politicians, so no one really paid any attention to what the humans told you to do. After all, Reploids had not yet tried to assert their independence yet.  
  
"But Reploids are so much stronger than humans. You cannot argue with that. We are made of metal, we have built in weapon systems, and we repair our damaged systems faster than any human immune system can. We are physically superior to them in every way.  
  
"Human nature is to fear…fear is the first step on the long road to hate." Mortar's voice took on a nasty edge. "The government that led the Maverick Hunter organization was very mistrusting of the Reploid race. They saw them as the replacements for humans, and so they feared them. Perhaps they knew in advance what people like Sigma would think…they made the connection early that if you persecute a group enough, they WILL rebel."  
  
Zero found himself agreeing with Mortar on that issue, and it scared him.  
  
"However," the old Reploid went on in his icy tone, "not all Reploids posed sufficient power to be considered national threats…"  
  
"National threats?!" Zero barked suddenly, "How could they think that? They had no evidence for that at all!"  
  
"Good to see you agree with me," Mortar said dryly, and Zero felt vaguely like he'd fallen into a trap. "Since not all Reploids were threats, not all of them needed to die."  
  
A knot tightened like a vice in Zero's stomach, and he knew exactly what Mortar was going to say next. The first thing that popped into his head had been 'They wanted to kill us all?' But then he'd seen the subliminal message, which was, 'Strong Reploids needed to die before they could become a threat.'  
  
Seeing that Zero was finally understanding, Mortar went on in a more gentle tone, as though trying to ease the truth along. "A force was put together by the army of Megacity 5. This force was unsanctioned by the rest of the government and conducted in secret by the humans who were most violently against populating the world with Reploids…meaning, pretty much everybody was on this coalition." Mortar pressed his fist into his palm before continuing. "I'm sure you know what machine haters are."  
  
Zero did. The human version of a Maverick was a machine hater. Just as Mavericks wanted to torture and kill all humans, machine haters wanted to do the same to all Reploids. To his slight discomfort, Zero knew that he and every Reploid on the Hunter force privately hated any human machine hater more than they did any Maverick, Sigma included.  
  
"Good, you do know…this secret force was given the code name 'Terrornova'. I don't know where the name came from, either… It was composed of a group of soldiers and the commanders that gave them their missions. The mission was always to assassinate a powerful Reploid, and the leaders of the program included Peter Thornton and Timofey Komanov."  
  
Zero's mind went spinning again. Two recently murdered men were part of a secret force that killed powerful Reploids, and they had been responsible for killing Mea…it still wasn't any easier for him to accept.  
  
"But why…" Zero started, and then had to find his voice again before going ahead with the question he chose. "Why do you know all this? What does this have to do with you, and the sniper at the Olympiad…?" Though the answers came as he spoke.  
  
"Usually…" Mortar went on, "The machine haters would do the dirty work themselves." His eyes narrowed and became even frostier, if that was possible. "But not Terrornova. They delivered the ultimate blow by not only assassinating any Reploid that might challenge human power, but by forcing their fellow Reploids to do it."  
  
The harshness of Mortar's voice cut through the haze around Zero's mind. "So you're saying…"  
  
"Yes," Mortar finished, "The human race virtually enslaved a large team of Reploids and forced them to murder powerful HUNTERS. Not Mavericks, but the Hunters, who had placed their trust in the humans, and vowed to defend them."  
  
Zero didn't know which realization was worse; Mortar confronting him about Mea or knowledge that she had been killed by the humans he had died once to protect. He sat back again, lost in another cloud of thought, though he managed to decide on another question. "The Reploid assassins…they just…took this sitting down? They didn't rise up against the humans?"  
  
"So now you're condoning Maverick behavior, hmm?" Mortar couldn't help a grin, even though Zero was none too amused. "I was one of the Terrornova assassins. That's why I know so much, and I can tell you, there was a revolt." The grin died quickly, and was replaced by something Zero could only imagine was pain mixed with frustration. He could relate to that. "They made all the soldiers watch. We all saw our comrades get literally ripped apart. That was the price for rebelling, and frankly, no one was going to risk that."  
  
"So you preferred to live life killing against your will?"  
  
"Life, Zero, is very precious to a young Reploid, as I'm sure you know." Mortar fixed him with a knowing look. "You didn't self-destruct that time without passing through some kind of depression, no matter now brief." He was right and Zero hated him for it. "You did what we couldn't do. But you had a quick way out. What did we have to look forward to? And then what if we did succeed in rebelling? We'd exist as Mavericks, and the Hunters would track us down. We had no choice. Living conditions were horrible, and they certainly weren't above torturing soldiers when they made mistakes." Mortar had to stop and check his voice to make sure the hatred dripping from it didn't choke up his speech. "But we did it, because we didn't want to die. That's why Malevex shot Mea, and Komanov made it happen because Mea was just slightly stronger than the rest of you."  
  
So much information… Zero's mind went into sorting mode yet again. So the man at the quarry was named "Malevex", hmm… Aside from that, the first thing he noticed was the horrible injustice of it all, and he was more focused on Mea than the plight of the Terrornova soldiers. His first real friend had been a kind, warm-hearted girl who'd offered her services to humans to help control the Maverick riots. But, she had had to die because she was a good soldier? Because the humans she had sworn to protect decided she was too dangerous to be allowed life? And then he came to the Terrornova soldiers. No matter how hard he tried not to, he could see it happening. And no, he would not have done anything differently…life WAS precious to a young Reploid.  
  
But Mortar was still not done. "Yes, it was a horrible thing. But then, internal conflicts in the government forced the Terrornova commanders to turn their attention back to politics. We were more or less buried away from the world until they needed us again.  
  
"And that is where the ultimate irony falls," Mortar said with a cruel grin. "While they dealt with their pithy political problems, Terrornova, which had never failed to complete a mission, was unable to kill the greatest threat the human race ever faced."  
  
Zero's face went ashen. "Sigma…" he breathed in a hoarse whisper.  
  
"Indeed," Mortar said in a tone Zero could not decipher, "We had never moved on him before, because the humans thought he had a foolproof program. Cain insisted that Sigma would never rebel, and the humans believed them. It serves them right… Sigma rose to power and left the Hunter ranks without being so much as scratched by us. This is where the Hunter involvement ends…the rest is strictly about our fellow Reploids."  
  
"You mean," Zero added, his mind starting to catch up with Mortar's at last, "Now they actually NEEDED to have powerful Reploids."  
  
Mortar blinked, and then cracked a grin. "You're perceptive, Zero. I really hadn't expected that…but yes, now they needed strong Reploids. Therefore, they had no use for Terrornova." Then Mortar paused, and for a second Zero thought the story was over. However, a full minute later, Mortar started up again, and to Zero, it was like a whole new person was talking. The Maverick's voice was heavy and unforgiving, but it had lost a great deal of the harshness and slight lecturing tone it had possessed earlier. "But they had quite a big problem now, didn't they?"  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"Maybe not as perceptive as I thought…think about it. Sigma was gathering an army of the most powerful Reploids in the world to slaughter the human race. Skilled as Terrornova was, our numbers were few. They had no use for us, but they could not let us go. The Maverick Hunters, which was the only army large enough to combat Sigma, was composed mainly of Reploids…you can imagine how quickly they'd have dropped out if they heard what had been going on to control their power like that."  
  
This meant two things to Zero, and both were hard slaps in the face. One, if Mortar was right, then he had a point. Zero would have quit the Hunters on the spot if he'd learned that humans were behind Mea's death. Two, he WOULD have quit, and so would many others, and that indicated how dangerous this information was then AND was now. It could well be that none of this was true, he realized with a slightly relieved feeling, and Mortar was just trying to destabilize the Hunters. But he had to investigate anyway, and he had to be damn careful about how he did it.  
  
This information, if leaked, could kill the Maverick Hunter organization.  
  
"So what did they do?"  
  
"Well," Mortar went on in an even heavier tone, "They killed us."  
  
Zero blinked. "But you're still here."  
  
"You of all people should know the foolishness of that statement, Zero." Again, he was right and Zero really hated him for it. "But you're right…they TRIED to kill all of us. They politely called it a 'purge'. However something went wrong, and they didn't kill us all in one spot as they intended to. We scattered. The human government panicked considerably, and while you Hunters and Mavericks fought each other in the first Reploid War, the survivors of the Terrornova purge were running around fleeing from the assassins that the humans were sending after us. While we were certainly better at the work of killing than they were, what with all the practice we'd had, we were still out of our league…plus they had HIM."  
  
Something about the way Mortar had said 'him', mainly the fact that it was surprising that boiling hot acid wasn't dripping from the man's lips, put Zero heavily off guard. He'd never even heard X refer to Sigma so venomously. "Excuse me…?"  
  
Mortar looked furious with himself. "He's gone, now…" he said gruffly, "I refuse to speak his name, not now, not ever. There has never been, nor ever will there be a greater demon than that man. But he's gone, so it doesn't matter." At least, Mortar thought, I HOPE he's gone. "But anyway…the purge was never fully completed, despite their advantages. Those that could flee Megacity 5 did. Those who didn't were killed, without ever getting a chance to live." Mortar's voice solidified and he looked up to Zero, as though wondering if he'd left anything out.  
  
"So…" Zero summarized, "You, and the sniper from all those years ago are survivors of a long dead conspiracy to control the power of Reploids."  
  
"Among others," Mortar said airily, "yes, we are the survivors."  
  
Just how many survivors were there?  
  
"But, please do not delude yourself," Mortar went on. "Terrornova is no more dead than you or I."  
  
"What are you talking about? These people are still doing this?"  
  
"Of course not," Mortar said in surprise, "They can't risk losing your support now, can they?" By this time, Zero had already recovered from the shock Mortar had put him in earlier, and was now debating how much of this could be serious, and how much could be the ramblings of an old man. The possibility certainly wasn't out of the question, but Zero was really pretty scared to believe that people would be so thoughtless of everything he and the other Hunters had done to keep the human race alive this far.  
  
"Humans didn't think we could coexist back then," Zero said firmly, "They owe us everything, now. Once the Mavericks throw down their arms, once these damned wars stop, then no one will have to worry any more."  
  
To his surprise and annoyance, Mortar laughed at him. "That's a very generous belief, Zero. Do you really think that is true? Do you ever really think we can coexist? So what if Sigma is eradicated forever, and the Mavericks are forced into nonexistence! What then?! We'll just be competing with the humans for our rights and our liberties! You see how they step on Reploid rights now, never allowing you to be as powerful as humans!" Then Mortar spoke the words that would haunt every bit of Zero's being for the next five years of the crimson warrior's life. "Even if you don't believe a word of what I've told you so far here, this much even you, a Hunter, KNOW is true: after a threat like Sigma, do you really think the humans will ever allow such a powerful Reploid to emerge ever again?"  
  
Zero was stopped cold once again. Try as he might, he could find nothing to counter with. Sure, he and all the other smart Reploids knew that there would be an 'after the wars', and while they'd all looked towards it with some mistrust, they fully expected themselves to be able to throw down their arms and live in peace, even if the humans didn't feel totally comfortable around them. However the thought that humans would try to kill them all off had never occurred…why not? It seemed so…on target. Why WOULD they risk someone else like Sigma emerging?  
  
Somewhere deep inside him, he felt an icy tendril of dread build up as he remembered the rumors floating around after Repliforce fell…rumors that said Zero was too unstable to be trusted. Even though the rumors were started by his enemies, they were still unsettling with this realization. The worst part was, even if everything Mortar had said thus far was a lie, this bit was logically true. There was nothing that would ever change that.  
  
Mortar leaned back in his chair as though completely settled. "And that, Hunter, is why I am a Maverick. That is why the deaths of Thornton and Komanov are cheered in this building. I have no regrets; I had all my regrets when I was a Hunter."  
  
Zero's eyes narrowed. He had no idea what to do now. Mortar obviously thought he was done for. Zero would have thought the same thing, actually, but was he supposed to kill him? No, he'd take him back to the HQ…  
  
As though he could read minds, Mortar smiled slowly. "I'll not be going to the Hunter Headquarters, Zero. I'll never set foot in there again, I made that vow a long time ago."  
  
"That's very nice, but I didn't give you that option," Zero said as he got to his feet, "You've given me a lot to think about. I'm going to need to talk to you again, that's for sure. Can't have you getting away now, can I?"  
  
Mortar didn't move. "You misunderstood me. I will not walk into that building alive."  
  
"You'd prefer me to kill you?"  
  
"Please do. This way, you won't have to worry about your perfect little organization falling apart because of what I know. It'll be easier for you, trust me. Either way…this is where I stay."  
  
Zero was very frustrated. He could overpower this man any day, but he figured Mortar'd kill himself somehow. He knew deep down that this man really would never return to MHHQ. If he had been telling the truth, how could he be blamed?  
  
However, the problem was soon not so graciously lifted from Zero's shoulders when the house started to rumble. Zero's eyes shot to meet Mortar's, to ask silently if the old man was trying to destroy the place, but the confusion on Mortar's face told otherwise. What was going on?  
  
Boris stepped back in horrified shock. This wasn't supposed to happen!!! It was supposed to have a fuse, so he would have time to get away! It wasn't supposed to go off yet! So why was it reacting now? Why was it-  
  
The thoughts raced through Boris's head in a second, and a second later the thug was vaporized by his own bomb, which tore a flaming hole through Mortar's shop and brought Delates running towards it. Unbeknownst to the Hunter, Diavus was well ahead of him.  
  
Zero had no idea what happened. He had inadvertently put himself in front of Mortar as the entire sidewall of the shop blew in towards them in a terrific explosion, and then it seemed as though a truck had driven into him. The Hunter crumpled into an agonized heap and, ears ringing, eyes clouding, he managed to make out Mortar being escorted away by the same Maverick he'd seen barge in earlier. He tried to stretch out an arm in protest but his strength failed him. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness.  
  
Delates charged through the remains of the shop, making out the silhouettes of two Reploids escaping through the flames. He started to charge after them, but one, who turned out to be the sniper he'd been looking for all this time, raised his rifle and fired behind him, clipping Delates in the leg. The Hunter fell to his knees in pain, unable to give chase. He limped after them as they sped off, even though the other one, who seemed rather old, wasn't covering ground easily.  
  
Delates let out a mighty curse, but it died when he heard a moan from behind him. He turned and, through the dying flames, made out his commander, covered under the rubble that had once been a wall.  
  
"Sir…?!" Delates rushed up to him, trying to shake him awake. "Zero, sir! Can you hear me…? Zero!"  
  
Far above the chaos in the slums, the clouds parted to make way for a massive floating ship. It was sleek, silver, and adorned with all forms of sharp, intimidating designs, usually formed of the same flowing silver titanium that made up the ship's outer hull. No less than ten cannon turrets were positioned at different points of the ship, and many hidden missile bays had to be lurking somewhere, too.  
  
As the government ship, Icarus, sliced through the sky, the soldiers inside scuttled about their by now boring duties, wondering when their commander was going to allow them to go back to solid ground. The commander had been very nervous, lately, as though he expected something to leap out of the shadows and kill him at any minute.  
  
Nestled away in the vacant central chamber of the ship, Colonel Kitao certainly felt he had reason to be nervous. He paced about the room, lost in thought, with his hand cupped around his chin and a finger tapping absently against his cheek. Such a decision he'd made…was it the right one?  
  
Now that Thornton and Komanov were dead, he and General Virdelko were the only old commanders of the Terrornova program that were still alive. Since it certainly looked like survivors of the purge were trying to get revenge on their old commanders, Kitao refused to go down to the ground where he might be a target. Virdelko, safely nestled away in an undisclosed city, had ordered him to stand idle and let the whole thing blow over. Kitao had been furious at his superior's lack of concern for the severity of the situation, and had called together the best soldiers he could find to begin a very secret mission. Human soldiers, of course, he would never bother with Reploids again.  
  
But he'd acted in haste. The more he thought of it, the more Virdelko knew what he was doing. With Sigma dead, it would only be a matter of time before the Hunters stamped the Mavericks out of power again. The enemy Reploids would be destroyed by the Hunters, and Kitao's people wouldn't have to get their hands dirty. So, he'd called off the troops he'd dispatched, which hadn't exactly gone over well with them.  
  
"Nothing I could do about it…" he grumped to no one in particular, "they have no idea how sticky this is…"  
  
"Talking to yourself again, sir?" The new voice was smooth, deep, and as calculating as could be imagined. From the shadows of a northern doorway, a tall, well built man in a flowing black trench coat strode casually into the room, pacing slowly and enjoying the look of anger on Kitao's face. The man wiped a few locks of very black hair out of his equally dark eyes as he came into the light to meet the colonel's gaze. If you hadn't known better, there was almost no way to tell he was a Reploid. "Filthy habit, really."  
  
"You shut up," Kitao hissed, stopping cold and whirling on the Reploid, "I am not in the mood."  
  
"Oh, fancy that, he's not in the mood…" the shadowy man shook his head as he addressed his superior with mock disapproval. "You're never in a mood to do anything except shout, I'm afraid. One of these days your voice box is going to explode, and you better not come crying to me when it does." Something about the arrogance in the man's voice always managed to make Kitao enter a fouler mood than any he had been in previously, and this time was no exception.  
  
"I don't know why I put up with you, Chartreuse," Kitao said in a low tone, forcing himself to be civil. "I'd think you'd be a little more respectful, considering all we've done for you…"  
  
Chartreuse, which was an odd name for him since there was none of that color on him, crossed his arms over his chest and continued on in a lazy tone. "Yes, you've done a lot, sir, and I'm very grateful, but I'm afraid I don't understand this time." The Reploid fixed Kitao with a look that wasn't exactly piercing, but still served to unnerve the human. "Why did you chicken out?"  
  
Kitao's nostrils flared. "This would have been a pointless mission, Chartreuse. You know that."  
  
"Not so, not so…" It was his turn to pace now, moving around the stationary Kitao while speaking in his perfect, knowing tone. "I killed them once, you know…what makes you think I couldn't do it again?"  
  
"You failed," said Kitao, not moving, "You didn't kill them all."  
  
"I slaughtered every last one I could get my hands on," Chartreuse replied, not stopping, "Perhaps one got away, but that's to be expected, what with the failure of an operation you had set up for the original purge…"  
  
"It wasn't our fault they got away," Kitao snapped.  
  
"Nor was it mine," Chartreuse said in a voice with none of Kitao's harshness, but all of its impact. "But I did a pretty good job rounding up the ones you missed, eh? You don't think I can do it again, sir?"  
  
Kitao turned to look his subordinate in the eye. Ordinarily, he would never have put up with such a loathsome Reploid-or any Reploid, period-as Chartreuse was, but this one was special in his own way. Chartreuse loved chaos. It didn't matter which side he was on, but he loved causing chaos and disorder, and the man never seemed to be happy unless blood was on his hands. He was a weapon, one that had to be controlled, but one that was unbelievably efficient when unleashed. The constant wave of opportunities that Kitao's people presented Chartreuse kept him loyal to them, to a point, but while Kitao was sure Chartreuse appreciated the danger of being surrounded by humans who hated his kind, he wasn't sure it frightened Chartreuse at all.  
  
"Keep still, Chartreuse, just a little longer. This is but a meager battle…your war is yet to come."  
  
"Excuse me…?" the Reploid asked with a curving eyebrow.  
  
"You'll see," Kitao said, allowing a cold smirk to creep over his face. "We're gone for now. Our battle is over. From this moment on, it is merely the Maverick Hunters versus the Mavericks led by our old friends from Terrornova. But mark my words, we're not going anywhere far." The cold grin grew even chillier. "Once the Maverick threat is gone…and it won't be long, you know that…then, Chartreuse, that is when the real war will start. But for now, let's just let them kill each other off. I say again, it won't take long." 


	13. Soul Searching

1 Chapter Twelve: Soul Searching  
  
One past, a thousand faces. Every face was different, and each radiated a different dominant emotion, and in no case was that emotion anything good. Unknown faces cried out in shock or wailed in both agony and confusion as they slipped into death, not knowing how or why. Faces of friends were masks of terror, paranoia clenching their features like an iron claw. Pain, longing, confusion, fear…there was more of that on the faces of friends then there were on those killed. Then, all the faces began to melt together. They swirled as though in a spin cycle, blending together in a giant mass of color that reshaped itself into the hateful image of a human soldier, glaring ruthlessly and without remorse.  
  
Then the image changed again, and a hole was torn in the hated human's throat. He collapsed to the ground in a pool of his blood, and every other face that had been sucked into oblivion because of him was suddenly free, and none had the same image of pain, confusion, or fear. Finally, the score was settled. Finally, Timofey Komanov's death meant something to his killer.  
  
Malevex of Terrornova stared out towards the bright full moon from his position on an outer walkway of Seraph Castle. He was leaning into the iron guardrail of the walkway, his elbows braced on top of the barrier and his head rested in his hands. The wind was neither strong nor freezing, but it was very refreshing as it blew past his face and through his dark hair, making it even untidier than it usually was. The Maverick was alone, as most of his comrades had retired already, and he was using the opportunity as a much needed chance to think.  
  
It had been a very full, hectic day when it should have been relatively quiet. He blamed himself for it, since if he'd gotten rid of Komanov anywhere else it might not have happened. Mortar had arrived at Seraph Castle five hours ago, charred and frazzled, but otherwise unharmed. Gredam had seen him immediately, and then called Malevex and Teytha in as soon as they had been available. The other Mavericks were a bit miffed at being excluded, but at the moment none of the three leaders had cared. As they talked, everything became clear, and Malevex found himself feeling very thankful, because it could have been a lot worse.  
  
After Malevex had killed Komanov, a targeted coveted by both the dark soldier and Gredam, he had sent Mortar a fax on their secret machines to make sure nothing had gone wrong for the old man, since the killing had gone on right in his back yard. Mortar replied that he needed two meddlesome thieves taken out, so Malevex had called upon Diavus, a sniper he trusted from days of loyal, effective service in Malevex's spy network. Diavus had arrived just as the two thieves were making a comeback, but unfortunately the Hunters had already been alerted about Mortar, and Zero of all people had been inside Mortar's shack. Zero's guard had seen Diavus somehow—which surprised Malevex, since Diavus was very good—and started a firefight. During the few moments of chaos the thieves had broken in and Zero had roasted one of them, but Mortar's cover had been blown. Malevex did not know why, though he suspected Mortar was covering for someone by not telling him. Diavus and Zero's guard had fought in the slums while Zero interrogated Mortar, and the sniper returned for the old man just as a bomb from an unknown source destroyed most of Mortar's home. The two had returned to base together, and while he still didn't know everything that had happened, Malevex had already made a mental note to promote Diavus as high as was possible for what he'd done.  
  
The real beauty, he knew, was that Zero now had to mull over the truth about his pet humans. Unless, of course, the bomb had jolted the crimson one's memory, and that would suck. But since that was unlikely enough, given the recovery programs the Hunters possessed, it was safe to assume that Zero was turning the information over in his head even now, and the way Mortar had described their conversation, it seemed like Zero would actually be taking the information seriously.  
  
The fact that Mortar's attention getter had been Malevex's least loved mission, which said a lot considering how much he'd hated all his missions, seemed very ironic. The encounter with Zero in the quarry had been what prompted Malevex to get back at Komanov, the man who had ordered Mea dead and forced him to do it. Then, shortly after, Zero had been manipulated with the same incident.  
  
The Maverick sighed and his body was racked with a shudder. He'd not allowed himself to dwell on the quarry incident until now, but since he knew he'd go nuts if he didn't think about it, now was as good a time as any. He shouldn't feel so strange about it, he knew. He'd done his job. He'd killed Sigma, so now the changes could take place, the changes that would make the Maverick army great again. He'd won. At the same time, he knew that wasn't true, since if Teytha hadn't shown up to help him when she had, Zero would have cleaved the life out of him. He blinked suddenly, realizing he hadn't properly thanked her for that, even though he knew she wanted no thanks. The type of bond between himself, Teytha, and Gredam generally allowed any one of them to risk their necks for any of the others.  
  
What lingered, though, was Zero's eyes, same as the first time. Way back at that Olympiad, the looks of confusion and grief in Zero's eyes had been well overshadowed by fury. In Zero, Malevex had detected a great sense of justice, and besides the creepiness of being correctly identified randomly among a crowd of thousands, that justice more or less told the Maverick that Zero wouldn't rest until justice was carried out. Even with what Zero knew about Terrornova, Malevex severely doubted the noose around his own neck was any looser. He knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he were in Zero's shoes, regardless of the situation. Though this situation had at least carried some weight with it…  
  
What Mortar had told Zero had been the sugarcoated version of what the Terrornova soldiers had lived through. In many cases, death had indeed seemed better than life. However, death was always a fairly frightening thing for a Reploid. At least the humans could look forward to reuniting with some deity once they died, but Reploids, who were the soulless mechanical devices created by mankind, only had oblivion to look forward to. And even if someone had decided that dying was better than living, the type of death Terrornova had in mind usually changed his or her minds. The human commanders hadn't been content to just execute rebels military style, with a gunshot to the back of the head. They hadn't even considered decapitation. They had far worse things in mind. Whenever they had to kill one of their soldiers, the humans had fun with it. They had first gathered all the other soldiers to watch, in order to frighten them out of choosing similar rebellious paths. The methods of murder, since it could be called nothing else, varied. Generally the Reploid was tortured to death, in vintage machine hater fashion. In one case every vital vein in a circulatory system was slashed, and the poor bastard had stumbled around without any coolant while his systems had shut down one by one, with the humans inflicting other agonies as that went on. Each time, Malevex had watched it all with a rapidly growing hatred for the entire race of the bastards who controlled his life, and wanted to lash out and kill each and every one of them. But he hadn't, because it was suicide, and the others would probably suffer for his actions. That was another thing they'd done…when one Reploid screwed up, they'd punish everyone for it. They'd known that the soldiers were close, so this was an extremely effective way of controlling them…who would revolt if they knew their friends would suffer for it?  
  
But whereas those like Malevex, Gredam, and Mortar had watched silently, their sanity supported by nothing other than pure, immeasurable hatred and a desire for vengeance someday, there were others who just couldn't handle the stress, and would try to kill themselves before Terrornova got around to doing it for them. This was an even worse idea, since to make sure that their soldiers didn't just all kill themselves and end their glorious program, the humans would revive suicidal Reploids for the simple sake of killing them again, only in a more gruesome manner. So, the soldiers rapidly tried to discourage suicide amongst each other. Malevex had brushed uncomfortably with that problem, because Teytha had been one of those who had balked under the oppression. While she'd always been ruthless in combat and confident among her friends, Teytha had been like a scared rabbit back then, and even now sometimes he knew she didn't feel safe. She'd wanted to kill herself to escape it all, even though she knew what would happen to her afterwards, and while she'd been much closer to Mortar then, she and Malevex had been friendly enough, and with Mortar away on a mission she had no one else to confide in. He'd talked her out of it, finally, and gotten her to look at life a little more favorably, though he still didn't know how he'd done it, since he wouldn't have minded suicide at times, either. She'd repaid the favor after his mission to kill Mea, when he'd been both fearful at having been identified—their commanders would have just shit if they knew—and for the first time really conscious of what he'd done and the blood on his hands. He'd been grateful for her friendship then, as he had been Gredam's and Mortar's, and he'd never forgiven himself for letting her get killed.  
  
The other thought, besides suicide, that had danced through the soldiers' heads had been running away, but since they knew they wouldn't get far, that was a bad idea. Afraid that runaways might expose them to the Hunters, however, the humans had killed runaways when they caught them, but to discourage it from happening in the first place even more, they tormented the rest of the squad. No one wanted to put their friends through that, so no one ran away. After all, the machine haters of Terrornova were very good at torment. Malevex remembered an acquaintance being kneecapped as he slept because he had done less than perfectly on a combat test. The knee had been repaired without any form of painkiller as the guy was restrained, right there on the spot, and he was expected to perform even better on the test course the next day. That was the reason Malevex learned to shoot so well…if he hadn't, he'd be dead.  
  
Then came Sigma's War and the Purging. The three of them had survived it all, and now they were in charge of the Maverick army, finally able to get the revenge they had always wanted.  
  
So lost was he in thought that Malevex didn't realize he was alone anymore. When he did he spun around in surprise, but quickly relaxed. Teytha, armorless with arms crossed over her chest, stood silently behind him, with the corner of her mouth twitching in a smile. "I was wondering when you'd notice."  
  
"You could have said something," he said, shaking his head.  
  
"You looked so serious. I didn't want to throw you off track."  
  
"Right…you look pretty serious yourself. What's on your mind?"  
  
"Stuff." She stepped forward and joined him at the guardrail, leaning into it in much the same way he did, gazing down at the ground far below them. "You?"  
  
"Stuff," he said just as simply. "Probably the same things you are."  
  
"Hmph…" A gust of wind kicked up, blowing strands of her raven colored hair into his face. She brushed it away and smiled apologetically. "I didn't feel like braiding it?"  
  
"I guess not." He was very happy that he wasn't sneezing his fool head off, which tends to happen when you get hair near your nose. "I expected it to be a little colder up here, since we're in the mountains and all."  
  
She shrugged. "I'm not complaining. Though snow is nice to look at."  
  
"So long as you're not shoveling it out of the way…" He noted the bit of distance in her eyes. "Something wrong?"  
  
"Long day. I'm not sure what to make of everything…"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well…" She pushed away from the guardrail a bit, looking higher in the air. "Mostly I'm worried about what Zero will do with his information. I mean, yeah, it could be deadly to the Hunters, but if Zero is smart enough to handle it right, well…he knows now that there's some Mavericks still active who probably hate humans with a great passion, and so the Hunters are gonna be on alert…"  
  
"And we lose the time we thought we'd buy by killing Sigma, and making the Hunters drop their guard."  
  
She sighed and leaned back into the rail. "Yeah. This next part depends on secrecy…it's the first part of the second phase. We need this to go right."  
  
"It'll go just fine. Zero won't know what to do. We still have time we can use to our advantage. Steel Alley…they confirmed?"  
  
"Revolver returned from Steel Alley earlier today. He said they've got the stuff ready to be transported. Now we just have to make sure the security is foolproof…train battles are hard, just look at what happened to Slash Beast." They both shivered at the thought of the Repliforce captain, who after a heated duel with Zero was knocked off the car he was fighting on and crushed under the wheels of his own train.  
  
"So, see? The plan continues, no matter how paranoid the Hunters get."  
  
Teytha nodded somewhat halfheartedly. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"What do you think of all this?"  
  
He blinked, because he was a bit surprised, though he didn't know why, since he'd wanted to ask her the same question. "You mean…the whole vengeance thing?"  
  
She nodded. "Is it what you thought it was going to be?"  
  
It was his turn to sigh. "I really don't know what I expected. I always wanted to do to the humans everything they did to us, but once I had the chance, I couldn't make myself do it. It just seemed too…sick, too wrong, even though I knew it would have been justified. But…no, I don't even think 'justified' is the right word for it. After spending my life killing people who I didn't want to kill, more killing didn't really seem appealing, but I do admit that these deaths bring me satisfaction. I'm glad they're dead, and I'm glad they died in pain…especially Thornton. Gredam had fun with him."  
  
"Gredam's really into this," she said quietly. "He's totally in love with the idea of vengeance, and he's a good leader for the Mavericks and all, but…" She shrugged again. "It just seems like he's getting more and more distant."  
  
Malevex nodded slowly, carefully. He had noticed the distance Teytha referred to in Gredam, but he'd figured that was from the stress that came with running an army.  
  
"So that's how you feel about revenge," she continued, tilting her head to look him in the eyes. "Do you feel the same way about the Mavericks?"  
  
He knew what she was saying, even though he had to think about it for a while. "Raising an army to dominate the humans? I find nothing wrong with it…I'd be the first to help the Reploids take over Megacity 5. Hell, it'd be nice to take the whole planet."  
  
"But do you feel like it's your place…?"  
  
He struggled with that answer. "I don't really know. It should be, by all rights, since I could never be a Hunter, and I can't just sit around and do nothing…but I don't know." He tilted his head a bit. "What about you?"  
  
"I don't know, either…I started all this with a lot more enthusiasm. Now I can't help but think we're in way over our heads. Besides…I'm not sure a war like this is something I want to be part of."  
  
He frowned. "Becoming a pacifist all of a sudden, eh?"  
  
"No," she shook her head firmly. "But now that I've got a life of my own, so to speak, I don't want to risk losing it so soon…you know? And if you or Gredam or Mortar died, it'd be just as bad."  
  
"You've already had your brush with death," he said, resting his hand on hers. "The last person who's gonna die in this war is you, we'll make sure of that."  
  
"Mm…" She stared down towards the shadowed ground below them. "But what good is that if you guys get yourselves killed? I'm here mainly because you are. I wouldn't want to go out there, that world hates us. Besides, out there, we're fair game for the Hunters and the humans…I barely feel safe here, out there it would be…" She stopped, blushing slightly. "Sorry…didn't mean to unload like that. I'll warn you next time before I go into mope mode."  
  
He laughed lightly and smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. "It's okay, I know how you feel, a little…" He reached out and ruffled her hair gently, then his hand dropped to her shoulder. "But I ain't getting killed off for a long time, so don't worry. Gredam, he's not quite as perfect as me, but I think he'll last, too."  
  
She laughed with full humor. "That was horrible…but I guess I can believe you," she finished, shifting her weight a bit. Malevex wasn't sure if she was leaning into the guardrail or into him, but he found himself not minding much either way. They stood close together quietly for almost a minute before Teytha grinned to herself and snaked her hand towards him. He didn't miss either movement and knew what she was going to do, but couldn't stop her before her arm crept around his waist and she started tickling him, something she knew made him uncomfortable as hell. He damned the day she'd figured out he was ticklish, since it seemed so unbecoming of a soldier, and an assassin nonetheless… Laughing despite himself he managed to ease her away from him, looking around nervously.  
  
"Oh come on," she said, laughing too. "Afraid people will see you?"  
  
"Why, yes, as a matter of fact," he said with an unconvincing frown, "It's infuriating when you can run around defeating enemy after enemy ruthlessly and while not getting hideously mangled, and then be susceptible to…"  
  
"To the most basic of all attacks?" She smirked broadly.  
  
"I don't know what you're laughing about," he said, allowing himself a smirk of his own. "It's not like I can't fight back."  
  
Teytha smiled awkwardly, leaning her back into the guardrail and crossing her arms over her stomach to ward off any attack. Malevex shook his head and laughed lightly, turning back towards the moon. "So how's Mortar?"  
  
"He's good," she replied, relaxing and stifling a yawn with her hand. "He's in the east tower, in the officer barracks. He could use some rest. Come to think of it, he's a smart man…" She yawned again and started towards the east tower. "Don't stay up too late, you'll fall off."  
  
He stared down at the depths lurking over the edge of the guardrail for a few seconds. "I'll be careful." He bade her good night and went back to staring at the moon, pondering over something Teytha had said. Yes, it was very possible that one or all of them would die soon. Things would start getting very violent after a while, and while they were doing their best to plan everything to a T, they all knew that planning meant nothing unless you had the strength to back it up.  
  
His mind wandered to one last article: the papers. When he'd killed Komanov, Malevex had retrieved secret papers that Komanov had meant to transfer to the contact Malevex had killed and impersonated. The papers were from General Virdelko himself, and hinted that the makeshift assassin cartel the government was using in place of Terrornova nowadays would possibly be called to action again. After Komanov's death, Cyber Peacock had intercepted an extremely well coded message from Colonel Kitao to the assassin cartel, telling them to meet at Icarus, the floating military base that was a sister unit to the now defunct Sky Lagoon. This same day, another message was intercepted from Kitao, telling his assassins NOT to meet, because plans had been scrapped. So unless the humans were toying with them, which was unlikely because they obviously did not think their codes could be cracked, they had nothing to worry about, but Malevex was still on edge. They had to make sure they were strong enough to handle any threat.  
  
"Our army is fine," he whispered into the wind, "We've done everything we could do."  
  
They had Grizzly Slash's engine. All they needed now was one last shipment, and then everything would fall into place.  
  
  
  
X stood uncomfortably in front of the podium, staring untrustingly at the microphone, and then out at the crowd gathered before him. All those faces, some young, some rather old, were dying to hear what he had to say, but the truth was X didn't know what to say. He hated public speaking; half because he was shy, and half because had this sinking feeling nobody was listening to him. X's status as the four-time savior of the free world did garner a lot of attention and respect, though X didn't realize it, or just didn't play on it as much as he should have. Normally Zero would be giving this speech, since Zero was usually a lot more outgoing than X was, but Zero had insisted that X take this one, for whatever reason.  
  
"As you know," he started, lamely, he thought, and he once again hated his youngish voice, "nearly a week ago there was a battle in the quarry of Megacity 5's 12th district. During this short but violent fight, the Hunters managed to kill Sigma and several of his soldiers.  
  
"This fight was fought with little time for planning. The Hunters did take some losses, but we all have nothing to feel ashamed of for it, since the results of the mission were incredibly beneficial thanks to the skill of our troops.  
  
"As pointed out by Caligula," X glanced to the side of the stage, where the department chiefs were seated, and saw Caligula grimace about the unwanted attention, "the casualties involved in a normal war against Sigma's Mavericks usually number in the thousands. The victory we won was incredible because many lives were spared." X didn't really want to say the next part, since despite the mood he was in personally, most of the Hunters gathered before him were in extremely high spirits. Those who had lost friends were getting around to the fact that the world had been spared a lot of trouble. Those who were removed from the battle were happy that their enemy was gone. But that was probably why this had to be said, or else they would not be prepared for future events.  
  
"However," X went on, a grave note entering his voice, "This does not mean that we are out of the woods. Sigma has always been eliminated after he loses most of his soldiers. The majority of the current Maverick army is still active and equipped to cause serious trouble. While it is true that the Maverick infrastructure suffers horribly without a well-defined leader, we still must be on our guard, especially now. We are, as I'm sure you know, in a period of Red Climate, and anything you regard as suspicious should immediately brought to the attention of your superior officers. The Mavericks will probably be looking to retaliate for the killing of their leader. We believe this is why Major Komanov of the Megacity Army was murdered earlier this week. In order to stop these random and horrible acts of violence, any and all threats must be addressed."  
  
X smiled, letting the graveness flee his voice. "But all in all, we all showed the Mavericks who's boss, and I'm perfectly confident that we'll be able to handle anything they throw at us. Thank you."  
  
Applause roared from the crowd, but X knew it wasn't so much for him as it was for the state of the world in general. Mainly, the Hunters were happy because they figured they'd have to do less work without an army to fight. X frowned to himself, somehow knowing that they would never learn that Sigma alone was not the Maverick army. But as long as the higher-ups did their jobs, that shouldn't be too much of a problem.  
  
Zero smiled easily at X as he descended back into the wing of the stage where the officers and chiefs were seated. Everyone was filing out now, though, and the two Reploids talked and walked at the same time.  
  
"Very nice," Zero said, slapping X on the shoulder. "You didn't even stutter once."  
  
"Thanks, I think."  
  
"Heh…" Zero stretched his arms up above his head, yawning furiously. X laughed despite himself. It didn't matter who gave the speech; Zero would hate it anyway. The crimson Hunter hated all forms of public speaking, except, of course, when he was giving the speech, in which case he expected everyone to pay damn good attention. The beauty of it was that Zero was in a position where he could do that.  
  
"You'd have been better off doing it," X insisted again as they made a left turn, separating from Signas, Caligula, Tiberius, and some other commanders, and headed to the officer's canteen, since coffee sounded good to both of them.  
  
"Nah," Zero waved it off, "They needed to hear it from the real commander. I'm just a poser."  
  
"Very funny, but I know that's not the reason." The two entered the canteen, which was conveniently void of occupants, and set about to pouring themselves cups of liquid caffeine.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Zero asked, doing a relatively poor job of acting innocent. That alone was a warning sign, since Zero was a very good liar when he had to be.  
  
"Oh, come on," X said, trying to appear casual, "you've been really distant since you got out of the infirmary. You sure they flushed all the morphine out of your systems?"  
  
Zero sipped the hot coffee carefully, arcing his eyebrows at X over his raised cup. He lowered it and grinned slightly, wiping a hand briskly over his mouth and setting the mug on a table. "There's always some narcotic running through my systems, X."  
  
X chuckled lightly and joined his partner at the table, sipping his own coffee and finding it too hot to drink without certainly incinerating his taste mechanisms. He turned over his possible questions in his head, knowing what to ask but not sure Zero would talk about it. "What about that Mortar guy?"  
  
Zero seemed to bristle, and worse, seemed to be mad at himself for it. "What about him?"  
  
X shrugged, stirring the coffee a bit. "You were pretty sketchy on the details when you talked about the interrogation. What did he have to say?"  
  
Zero shrugged too, only it was less at ease than X's had been. "Only what we already suspected. Sigma's death means nothing to the Mavericks. They're going to carry on with whatever plan they originally had."  
  
"That worries you so much…?"  
  
"Why shouldn't it?" Zero asked, a vague trace of defensiveness creeping into his voice. His eyes flared for half a millisecond in self reprimand, and X was slightly put off. Zero was obviously hiding something important from him, and X figured he of all people should have Zero's trust. "You saw how different the soldiers at the quarry were," the blonde went on, covering for himself rather nicely. "Usually the Maverick Bosses just swarm into town all at once, armed with a few soldiers and a ton of drones to throw at us. While overwhelming, we always go for the soldiers before the drones, because they're smarter and pose more of a threat. While I'm sure that the Mavericks have plenty of drones at their disposal, they seem to have a lot more capable soldiers on their hands this time." He shrugged, unable to find anything else to continue with. "Mortar was just a courier for them."  
  
X frowned, raising an eyebrow. "You're telling me he had nothing to do with Komanov's murder?"  
  
Zero opened his mouth to insist that Mortar had nothing to do with Komanov, but his words died as he realized how stupid it would sound. Mortar obviously had something to do with Komanov. A Maverick so close to a murder like that? X could make that connection without any of the knowledge Zero now possessed, just as could every other person in Megacity 5. "Like I said," Zero lied, "He was just a courier. He didn't do any of the killings, and he doesn't know who did. The Mavericks operate that way, you know?" Zero smiled as reassuringly as possible at X. "I know you don't buy that, but that's really all there is. I'm just tired, is all, and still kinda getting over Sol and Katana."  
  
X recoiled slightly, nodding in understanding. Excellent move, Zero… X knew deep down that Zero was not being truthful at all, but after a statement like that last one, X knew he really couldn't pursue the topic any further, at least for now. Mourning for his dead soldiers might well have been the truth, but X suspected that Zero was just using the situation to his advantage to get X to shut up. More than a little miffed, X raised his coffee and sipped again, finding it once more too hot for his liking, but drank a full swig anyway before lowering the cup. "If you say so…you just look pretty haggard."  
  
"Yeah, well…" The Hunter polished off his beverage and rose from his seat, placing the mug in the sink and grinning back at his friend. "Gimme a weekend or two, and I'll be good as new. 'Course we may not have that luxury, so worry about something important, like your troop strength." He started for the door. "I gotta get to work on tomorrow's exercise."  
  
X nodded, giving Zero one last half frown. "You're sure you're all right?"  
  
Zero nodded. "You know me. I'll be out of this rut and on a fast track back to perfection in no time. Seeya!"  
  
Yes, I'm sure… X took one more sip of coffee, and then slammed the mug back on the table in frustration. He immediately regretted this as the scalding liquid shot out of the mug and onto his hands. Yelping a curse the Hunter leapt up from the table and skittered over to the sink, dousing cold water over his fingers until the heat was canceled out. He grumbled and retrieved a wet rag, and went about to cleaning up the mess he'd made, tossing the half-full coffee mug into the sink next to Zero's, probably to the disdain of the night janitors. Actually, the night janitors would have cleaned up this mess, too, but X preferred the activity to thinking.  
  
But he soon found himself thinking as he worked. The Azure Hunter was slightly hurt at Zero's outright rejection of his help, and while X knew he technically had no right to demand it, it still seemed right that Zero not keep him in the dark about everything. X had always been willing to talk to his best friend about anything bugging him, which could be a lot at times, and Zero had always listened and managed to return fire with sagely suggestions that more often than not served to solve X's problems. Zero was a fantastic listener, yes, but he was pretty bad at letting other people listen to him, unless he was barking orders.  
  
And even that wasn't really true, since Zero would often confide with members of his own squad about a number of things, which was half the reason the unit got along so well. He used to talk to X a lot, too, though X found that in some areas Zero was even shyer than he was. He grinned as he remembered how embarrassed Zero had been when X had finally gotten him to confess his mild feelings for Iris. X had never really developed emotions for another person, and so he found the whole thing interesting. Zero had too, and seemed more than willing to talk about it, asking X what he thought of things even though he knew X had absolutely no experience in the matter. About more serious things, however, Zero had been keeping to himself lately, and that was mildly troubling to X.  
  
After Repliforce fell, Zero had been a shroud of his former self in terms of confidence and personality. Killing Colonel had not been easy for Zero, especially since they had been good friends before Repliforce rebelled. Even worse was that even when he'd survived the battle with the fierce Colonel, Zero had found himself pitted against Colonel's sister, Iris, who conveniently had been the object of his affection. Iris had pleaded with both Zero and her brother to stop fighting each other, but after neither side had listened, Colonel had died and Iris couldn't forgive Zero. In a rage, albeit a confused, desperate rage, she had merged with a suit of ride armor resembling a mighty violet gargoyle and tried to exact revenge. Perhaps her reservations were too great, however, because Zero had been able to conquer the ride armor quite easily. It was Iris that he didn't want to kill, but faced with no choice, he'd disabled the machine, and at the same time injured Iris fatally. He'd never forgiven himself for these acts, X knew, even though he'd been forced to do them both by Sigma, who had manipulated General and his Repliforce army from the start.  
  
Zero's depression had been huge, and he'd more or less turned himself into a recluse. He did keep his troops in order, and practiced his skills regularly, but his antisocial behaviors were taking a toll on his mind, since he knew he needed to talk to someone but did not want to rehash the memories. X had virtually fought a war with Zero in order to get his friend to confide in him. Zero's condition had improved after he'd placed his trust in someone, as X and everyone else knew it would, but he was still tight lipped about certain things. At the recent Olympiad he'd chosen to deal with his emotions on his own. Mea and her killer seemed to be very important to Zero, and while he had told X that the Reploid who'd wounded him at the quarry had indeed been his old enemy, he'd seemed to hate doing it, and X had begun to feel like a wall was gradually building up.  
  
Then, Delates had dragged Zero home last night, the both of them covered in soot and Zero with a massive dent in his chest armor. The winded Hunter had received quick medical attention for his slight wounds and mainly just needed a chance to catch his breath. Once it happened, though, X hadn't seen much of a change in Zero. Delates had testified that Zero looked worse than he'd ever seen him before when he'd picked him up from Mortar's ruined home, which said a lot considering how many sticky situations Unit 0 had been in. Zero had worn a distracted, lost look for most of the day leading up to the address that the Hunter soldiers had been waiting for. He'd recovered a bit of spring to his step, but it was obviously forced, and this last conversation proved that he was keeping something locked up tight.  
  
For his part, X was worried that Zero would lapse into another depression, something that was really bad during a Red Climate. The look on Zero's face last night had been one of those he'd worn after the destruction of Final Weapon at the end of the Repliforce War. X didn't know why Zero wouldn't talk to him all of a sudden, but when he made such an effort to help and didn't get anywhere, he got a bit angry. Sure, he respected Zero's privacy, but a commander fighting an emotional war more often than not could not fight the real one, and X was very wary about that kind of situation, especially with what the newest evidence was suggesting.  
  
X rubbed his eyes, knowing it was early, but planning to turn in anyway. He'd gotten much less sleep this week than he'd have liked, and an early bedtime would do wonders for him. He just hoped the coffee wouldn't keep him awake very long.  
  
Zero walked very slowly down the hall away from the canteen, his eyes half lidded and his face scrunched into a frown. He felt a bit like an ass, since he knew full well that X was worrying a lot about him, and plenty of others in the service were sending him sympathetic glances lately. Do I really look that bummed out?  
  
But how in the hell was he supposed to talk about this? He knew in his head that he could trust X. He knew, he really did, that X would believe him, or that X would force himself to believe it, even if he didn't really, because, to the blue guy's credit, he did know when Zero was telling the truth. X had always been the only one Zero couldn't fool, except for Dr. Cain. But still, a thought lanced through his head, sending tremors of silent fear throughout him. What if X didn't believe him? What if X suspected that Zero was saying these things to undermine the Hunters?  
  
What if X thought he was a traitor?  
  
He knew it was insane, the most insane thing he'd ever thought. X had more than once demonstrated his loyalty to Zero as a friend, and Zero to him, even to the point of sacrificing his life for the Azure Hunter. There could be no possible mistrust between them.  
  
Unless you keep putting him off like this.  
  
Zero sighed as he walked, having no idea where he was going. He wasn't going to plan any exercise; he'd just wanted an excuse to leave X, and he felt guilty about it. X desperately wanted to help, because somehow he sensed the importance of this information, and Zero really wanted nothing more than to tell him. He was just so scared.  
  
He himself didn't want to believe a word of it. Christ, a group of humans using Reploids to slaughter their brethren in order to control Reploid growth? If this was right, Sigma had been right on the ball since day one! But Zero shook his head to that thought at once. Sigma was a tyrant who had been tempted by power, and nothing more. His wars came from his desire for dominion over all rather than any inner quest to help Reploids.  
  
And it was all so feasible! Humans always had feared Reploids and, Zero admitted reluctantly, this whole Terrornova thing was a clever way to handle it. Clever, though mind numbingly cruel and unfair. What was he supposed to tell X, after relating the history of Terrornova? He couldn't tell X that he didn't want the wars to end. How was he supposed to say that he hoped Sigma never died? Sigma provided a reason for the existence of his fellow Reploids, since the humans depended on them for protection. If Sigma were taken out of the picture, all the Reploids would be in danger again, and when they rose up in protest, they would be branded as Mavericks and it would all start again. For the first and only time in his life, and for just the barest flicker of moments, Zero hoped Sigma lived forever.  
  
But then he shook his head more violently, smashing his fist into his palm. Sigma's presence caused too many innocent deaths. He had to die, plain and simple. There had to be other methods of handling the humans, and he and X and everyone else could face them when they came to them. But Sigma could never be allowed to factor into the future. He had already tried to fire a destructive beam at the Earth once, and there was nothing suggesting that he wouldn't do it again if he were ever reactivated.  
  
Zero had been in such a trance that he didn't realize where he was going at all until he got there. He stood in the outer courtyard of the Headquarters, which sported a nice park-like atmosphere, with plenty of grass, trees, and even a silver fountain in the shape of a shark being impaled upon a seaman's spear. The shark was supposed to symbolize the Mavericks, which used a strange version of a shark as their insignia, being killed by the Hunters. Water gushed out of the "wound", as well as from trident shaped nozzles behind the sculpture in various degrees of pressure, meaning that in the silence that this nighttime provided, you could hear both the roar of a heavy stream crashing down into the fountain's basin, which produced a noise akin to a waterfall, and also the peaceful trickling of less powerful jets of water coming down. All in all, the slightly morbid fountain would seem to spoil the atmosphere of the quaint park, but Zero found it perversely peaceful.  
  
Apparently he was not the only one. Standing before the fountain, arms linked behind his slightly hunched back, was a bald old man in a violet robe. His wooden cane was leaned up against a nearby bench. He appeared to be fully concentrated on the fountain's intricate details, but even though he did not make eye contact with Zero at all, when he spoke Zero knew the old man was speaking directly to him.  
  
"I half expected to find you wandering around here, Zero."  
  
Zero's features loosened up a bit into a half smile as he addressed his mentor. "Well you were always good at that sort of thing, Doctor Cain."  
  
The true master of the Maverick Hunter army smiled warmly. Though he still didn't turn his head away from the fountain, Zero again knew the smile was directed at him and couldn't help but return it. He walked slowly up to join Cain at the head of the fountain, staring at it to see if the man was looking at anything in particular.  
  
"I think…" Cain said finally, reaching out a gnarled finger to touch one of the eroded grooves that emphasized the shark's struggling tail muscles, "that it's about time we called someone in to touch this up a bit. Don't you think?"  
  
Zero nodded slowly. "Probably. We haven't had it looked at in a long time. No one really complained…"  
  
"I was wondering if X had noticed it," Cain said, retracting his hand behind his back again and frowning in thought. "Have you seen him?"  
  
Zero's smile became fixed. "He was back in the officer's canteen a while ago."  
  
"Ah…" Cain smiled again, slowly, and let it grow just as slowly until it was almost a smirk.  
  
"What?" Zero finally had to ask, knowing again that the smirk was aimed at him.  
  
"Nothing," Cain said simply, though the smirk remained. "It's just that, for a second there, you actually had your mind on something pointless and unimportant again." He craned his head to actually look Zero in the eye, and being a reasonably tall man, he didn't have to look up that much to do so. "The old you was almost back."  
  
Despite himself, Zero let out a good laugh. "Thanks a lot."  
  
"Well, seriously," Cain said with an easy shrug. "You're thinking way too much nowadays about serious junk. The secret of a good life, Zero, is being irresponsible and frivolous. Sure, you need to be serious once and a while, but letting good sense get in the way of having fun?" Cain's smile grew even wider. "That's just insane."  
  
Zero laughed lightly again, almost not believing what he was hearing. Cain was a very wise man, usually, and here he was again, wily as an old fox, getting straight to the root of Zero's problem. "I suppose you're right. I've just got a lot on my mind, is all."  
  
"I see…" Cain's smile dimmed somewhat and he frowned, jerking his head slightly towards the nose of the seaman. "I don't believe I didn't notice that before. The nose is cracked."  
  
"I don't see it."  
  
"Look closer. There's a series of little spider web cracks at the base."  
  
Zero leaned forward, mindful not to catch a face full of the shark's "blood". "I see it. Seems kinda small, though. Who's gonna notice?"  
  
"Maybe not everyone," Cain conceded with a little shrug, though his voice became tinted with annoyance as he continued. "But winter'll be here before you know it. These kind of things always have a hard time enduring that weather, and plus when spring follows, we'll have all that acid rain again. The cracks might not seem like much now, but they'll grow."  
  
Zero frowned while raising an eyebrow, expressing what he thought of Cain's pickiness. "Is it really that big a deal? Why not just wait until it becomes a serious problem? Seems like it's asking a lot of somebody to fix up little cracks like that."  
  
"It might seem that way, but it's not," Cain said with an easy shrug. "People will do it. All we have to do is let them know about it. Or else, if we do wait for it to become a problem, the nose will become so bad, the cracks will get so big, that we risk all of it coming apart." Cain nodded thoughtfully to emphasize how big a deal it was. He frowned in disgust and pointed to an area of the nose where the statue's finish had begun to chip. "You see? It's started already. If we wait for an open invitation, it might become too late. And then Seaman Jones over here won't be able to smell all you aromatic Hunters anymore."  
  
Zero continued his frown, staring with Cain at the nose, until it all slapped him in the face. Cain hadn't been wasting his breath about a stupid statue. The genius had been standing here, giving Zero the most creative lecture of his life, while Zero unknowingly absorbed every word of it when he normally would not have. He replayed the whole conversation to himself, his mouth gaping ever so slightly at the cleverness of it all. The nose was Zero, and the little cracks that were splintering through Zero were small now, but they could soon develop into a major problem, and unless Zero sought help, he would fall apart, and it would be too late. And while to him it seemed like a lot to ask people to listen to his problems, they would do it, so long as he let them know about it. He turned towards Cain, who was still staring in total innocence at the statue, the thoughtful expression still etched on his lined face. While Cain could occasionally be a hard drinking party animal, he would always go down in Zero's book as the smartest fellow ever to grace the planet.  
  
Cain blinked at Zero in apparent confusion, though the Hunter saw that deep down in the old man's clear blue eyes, he knew his point had gotten across. "Something the matter?"  
  
"No…" Zero shook his head, still in a bit of amazement. "It's okay, I think."  
  
"Good, then." Cain stifled a yawn and pulled back the sleeve of his robe to glance at his watch. "Well then, it's getting a bit late." He made eye contact with Zero again. "How about getting someone to work on that fountain, eh?"  
  
Zero nodded, forcing himself not to smile. "I will."  
  
"Okay, then." Cain nodded and fetched his cane from against the bench, turning back to Zero as though in afterthought. "And, one other thing. I noticed you looked a bit troubled after that business with Mortar. Something on your mind?"  
  
This time Zero did smile. What a perfect touch… "Not at the moment."  
  
Cain nodded again and started back towards his office, which meant he'd have to pass Zero again at the fountain. "Old Mortar…always was a curious sort."  
  
Zero stood suddenly erect. "You mean you knew him?!"  
  
Cain blinked innocently. "Is there a problem with that?"  
  
"Well, no…but I mean, he's a Maverick and all…"  
  
"Yes…" Cain gave another of his offhanded shrugs. "Pete Thornton was on my case all through the First War to send a team after Mortar, who apparently was the antichrist or something, because they wanted him gone badly. I never figured out why, but I never got around to hunting the guy, since we needed all our troops to go after Sigma." Cain frowned as he walked off, but said one other thing Zero was meant to hear. "Frustratingly confusing, that whole thing. I don't know how you put up with us human enigmas, Zero."  
  
Zero's smile came with less ease this time, but it came nonetheless. Cain had imparted two things to him in that last part of the conversation. Zero did need to talk to someone. However, if he felt uncomfortable talking to someone else about whatever it was, Cain was more than willing to hear him out. The more he thought about it, the more completely right Cain was about everything.  
  
Zero stared up at the moonless sky, kind of wishing the full moon of yesterday was still up there, but instead he focused his attention on the stars, allowing a more real smile to creep onto his face.  
  
Things might not turn out so badly, after all. 


	14. Steel Alley

1 Chapter Thirteen: Steel Alley  
  
Megacity 5 boasted far more than the Maverick Hunter Headquarters, which sat at its center. It was one of the more prominent cities in the world, mostly, yes, because of the Hunter base there, but also because of its industry.  
  
Still operating in the northeast section of the city was a gargantuan row of factories, manufacturing plants, and the railways it needed to import and export. Reploid construction had boosted the requirement of steel, iron, titanium, and other powerful metals that required a lot of manpower to mass-produce. Also, most of the weapons and everyday items used by humans and Reploids alike came from this center of industry, dubbed "Steel Alley" by those who lived and worked there.  
  
Busy as it was, Steel Alley was not very hospitable. Nor was it a center of technological advancement. All the breakthroughs and experiments that made products better were devised somewhere else. The workers of Steel Alley only followed instructions and built things. If they were given faulty instructions, they built faulty devices, and no one could hold them accountable. This was in part because it wasn't technically their job to improvise, but mostly because no one dared to stand against the Engineer Corps of Steel Alley. The Engineer Corps, which involved mostly everybody who worked there, was a very tight knit community. They were not always friendly with each other, but they were fiercely loyal to their trade and even when enemies were having trouble with their jobs, the Engineer Corps would stand in their favor. This was, in all reality, a good thing indeed, because more often than not the companies who owned the plants on Steel Alley tried to manipulate and exploit their workers as much as possible. Low wages meant low costs and higher income for the big wigs. Nothing about that had changed, even after all these years, but people hadn't exactly expected it to.  
  
Night loomed over Steel Alley's south "district". A blanket of stars covered the moonless sky, somehow visible over the massive clouds of pollution spewed out of Steel Alley even at night. Barrier Greenback took this as a good sign, since the stars intrigued him to no end. He hoped, as he bounced down the sparsely populated street, that the rest of the night went as well.  
  
Greenback was a small creature, and more than a little strange. He was a Reploid forged to look like a frog, and he even used hopping as his main mode of transportation. He had humanoid arms and a very broad torso, with a big green head and the bulging eyes one would equate with any mental image of a frog or toad. His legs were large and thick, and capable of launching him far distances with his bounds. The crest of the Mavericks was embedded on his white shoulder armor, though it was dirty and smeared with oil. He'd joined the Mavericks not too long ago, though he really didn't give a hoot for their war effort. All he knew was that he had been required to build things. Revolver had personally requested his assistance, and as a member of the Engineer Corps, Greenback could never have refused his old friend. His name had always just been "Greenback", but in order to fit in at the base with people who sported names like "Storm Eagle" and "Gravity Beetle", he'd modified his name somewhat. "Barrier Greenback" was named so because he'd at one point taken the liberty of installing a barrier program into what little armor he wore. It was mainly for defense on the job, in case something heavy came falling on him. Greenback's mind was not suitable for any real combat. In fact, it wasn't suitable for much other than mechanics, but that was fine, since he was damn good at what he did.  
  
The toad leapt along, attracting the interested gaze of plenty of passerby. Greenback's peripheral vision let him see each glance cast his way, but he thought nothing of it. Streetlamps splashed a dim glow over the bleak, worn out pavement and the buildings and apartments that rose up from the ground all looked very high and very old. The paint was in most cases chipping off, and Greenback couldn't find one building that looked like it had been modified at all in recent years, which was just how he liked it.  
  
God, it was nice to be home.  
  
The amphibian's long leaps took him to his destination in half the time it would have taken a human or humanoid. He dove around corner after corner until he arrived at a stretch of the city that seemed barren in comparison with everything else. A long stretch of railroad tracks led far from Steel Alley, and the tracks passed behind the only huge building in the area, and huge it was. Greenback hopped through the rows of giant, disabled train cars and joined a man sitting on the front porch of the building, smoking a cigarette calmly. The man, a Reploid, smiled at the toad and pulled himself to his feet.  
  
"It's good to see Cartwright again," said Greenback. His voice wasn't exactly the scratchy croak that might be expected, but it came close enough that it wasn't anything human. That, and his sentence structure made him sound a little slow, but Cartwright, who stood twice as tall as the short amphibian and wore no armor to speak of, allowing any eyes to behold the bulk beneath the exposed synthetic flesh that his white tee shirt did not cover, did not make that mistake for a minute. He knew the power of Greenback's mind well enough.  
  
"Too true, Greenback, it's been too long," the humanoid replied, flicking his cigarette out of his hand. "Let's talk inside." They passed through the heavy wooden doorway. Cartwright didn't have to explain why a toad was following him to anyone else in the lobby of the train station; everyone there knew Greenback well enough already. They entered a private office and Cartwright crashed in an easy chair while Greenback hopped up onto one of the wooden stools, finding himself quite comfortable. Cartwright had at one time found the image of the frog man squatting on a stool very funny, but he had gotten used to it. "So how've ya been? Mavs treatin' ya kindly?"  
  
"Greenback treated well," the frog shrugged. "Is Barrier Greenback now."  
  
It took Cartwright a minute or two to compute what that meant. "I see…because of yer' fancy defense grid, eh?"  
  
Greenback grinned, which was an odd sight to see, and pressed his right fist into his left palm. A shimmering curtain of white energies flickered around him, forming a protective orb. The energy flickered, like bad reception on a television set, but Greenback seemed very pleased with it. "Try to attack!"  
  
Not about to touch the thing himself, Cartwright hurled a pen in the toad's direction. The writing instrument gave a sizzling clang when it connected and shot off in a random direction, ricocheting off the wall and landing quaintly enough in Cartwright's trash can. "Not bad at all there, Greenback."  
  
The frog threw back his head and laughed, which was unpleasant. When the scratchy, spasmodic noise finally died down, Greenback lowered his head and twitched his fingers. The shimmering curtain around him flickered and died. "Is favorite trick, it is."  
  
Cartwright grinned. He'd gotten used to Greenback's sudden bouts of laughter, and even found them humorous. "Well, so long as yer' doin' well, old boy, there's no trouble. How's old Revolver?"  
  
"Ooh, Revolver…" Greenback fixed both of his large eyes on Cartwright in an expression of seriousness. "Revolver is sorry he could not come to see you, but he was very busy and has tight schedule. Mr. Sigma, he asks a lot out of Revolver and Greenback."  
  
"Sigma…?" Cartwright frowned. "I thought he was killed."  
  
"Oh, he is, that he is." Greenback nodded his head furiously to clarify his statements. "Mr. Sigma is killed, but we do not throw away our tools because the boss is gone, you know."  
  
Cartwright knew, all right, and lowered his voice. "So, you guys still have something up your sleeve?"  
  
"Oh yes, big something!" Greenback cackled again. "Greenback cannot tell you, but Steel Alley will be proud! Mavericks will make all the bosses go away, and the engineers, we get what we have always wanted!"  
  
Cartwright smiled again. In the past, the Mavericks had never struck a blow at Steel Alley, because it was always so important to their supply lines. The same held true for the Hunters, and the final card in Steel Alley's favor was that it was out of the way. It's total lack of strategic importance helped keep it safe from the violence of the previous wars. Indeed, something most of the engineers here looked forward to also was the weakening of the corporate powers that kept their wages less than huge, so they did tend to support the Mavericks in most conflicts, though the Hunters always turned the other cheek.  
  
"It sounds great, Greenback, I can't wait to see what comes of it." Cartwright pressed his fingers against each other, arcing them into a pyramid. "I take it some o' those shipments Revolver wants me to smuggle have somethin' ta do with your big project…?"  
  
"Of course, Cartwright, of course!" Greenback's tongue shot out to spear a fly on the wall, and Cartwright recoiled. He'd never gotten used to that part of Greenback's behavior, since he found it both startling and nasty. "Revolver was in the outskirts of Steel Alley yesterday. He couldn't find Cartwright then, so he took care of other business." The toad grinned his unique grin once more. "So Greenback here to finish job!"  
  
Cartwright nodded slowly. "What exactly needs to be finished?"  
  
"Train," Greenback explained. "Train station must be ready for train. Greenback has details."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
The Maverick bounced excitedly, almost upsetting his stool. "Mavericks come by cargo train in two days. They smuggle their way into last train, and get in as many cars as possible. Then Mavericks stop train in Steel Alley, and pick up stuff Cartwright smuggled."  
  
Cartwright scratched his head. "Why all the soldiers?"  
  
"Greenback knows how Cartwright feels." The toad shook his head in what passed for disgust. "Greenback thinks it is such an unnecessary thing, but when Greenback thinks about it, what is being smuggled is very bad, so troops might be needed." Another grin. "Mavericks very careful nowadays. Hunters have satellites in sky, and Mavericks don't want to repeat past mistakes."  
  
"I see…" Cartwright frowned. Yes, it was a good idea to have a large contingent of guards for this material—even Cartwright didn't know precisely what he'd smuggled, but he did know that some of the components were fiercely forbidden by law and that he could be shot on sight for having them—and Cartwright knew it was better if the Mavericks felt they were threatened by a satellite. As it was, Cartwright severely doubted that any satellite could pick through the pollution around Steel Alley well enough for a clear picture of anything, but he decided not to tell Greenback that. Someone else in Greenback's army probably had already realized the same thing, he reasoned. "So all I gotta do is sit here in this ol' dump an' wait for ya to pull up in the train?"  
  
"Blackstar train. Greenback thinks number is 5041. Yes, definitely, Blackstar 5041."  
  
"Yeah, that there's the last train we got on Friday," Cartwright confirmed. "Then I help you get the stuff on board? Seems mighty easy, Greenback. Why were ya so worried about details?"  
  
"Greenback is worried because Revolver was worried. No one wants to take a chance, and Greenback is certain Cartwright understands."  
  
The humanoid paused for a second before nodding. "How will I find out if the plan is still on? I mean, wouldn't do me no good to bring this stuff out to a regular train crew if you guys decide to back off."  
  
Greenback cackled again. "You will know. There will be a Maverick that Cartwright will not be able to miss."  
  
"Who? Or is it top secret, for some reason?"  
  
"No secret. Blast Hornet."  
  
Cartwright blinked. Blast Hornet, a Maverick who'd served under Dr. Doppler in the Third War, had at one time been a worker here on Steel Alley. He'd been one of the coveted flyers who'd carried supplies from one area of assembly lines to another, and the lasers in his blaster were well suited for welding or whatever else was needed. Blast had been reequipped for combat, Cartwright knew, but he was sure he'd still recognize the Maverick. Something, however, kept gnawing at his mind. "I thought that Blast Hornet was a deader."  
  
"He was," shrugged Greenback. "In theory, anyway. Blast Hornet never died in the Third War. Blast Hornet was hurt, he was, and very brain dead, but he was salvaged by some people in a stray Maverick base. Poor Mavericks did not fix Blast's head well enough, and he went very cuckoo. Lots of people died and then Revolver was able to fix Blast's head enough that he can think again. But poor Blast is not anything like he used to be."  
  
Cartwright shuddered. "But he'll recognize me?"  
  
"Might. Might not. But he won't attack you. And he will not be alone. Other commander will be there, a big commander. Nothing will go wrong."  
  
"I see…" Cartwright started wringing his hands. "What, eh, what happens if them Maverick Hunters decide to poke their noses into our business?"  
  
"Ahh…" Greenback cackled again, this time a little evilly. "Cartwright must trust Greenback. The Mavericks will be more than ready to defeat the Hunters, we will."  
  
It didn't take long from that point to conclude the meeting, and the two old friends started to chat a little bit before Greenback bade Cartwright farewell and hopped back into the city. Cartwright then proceeded down into his storage chamber and examined the giant boxes that he was going to hand over to the Mavericks. He had no idea how they planned to get the stuff to their base on a train, but he imagined they were going to use the simplest plan that came to mind. He figured, maybe, they'd ride the train to a certain spot and disable it somehow, unloading their goods and disappearing on a trail to their base. Hell, who knew? All he had to do was give them this stuff, and he would be more than happy to get it out of his hands anyway.  
  
Greenback had concluded his official business but that didn't mean he was ready to leave yet. He hopped back through the industrial labyrinth of buildings, roads, alleys, and factories, and eventually encountered an unseemly looking bar that was bustling with regulars. The toad hopped up through the double doors and immediately found himself a stool where he could be served. The bartender recognized him immediately.  
  
"Been a while, Greenback," he said as he took the frog's order.  
  
Greenback grinned. "How's business, Hart?"  
  
Hart shrugged, glancing around the full bar. "Doing pretty well, I guess. Lots o' folks around here still want nothing more than to get drunk after a hard day's work. Who am I to judge?"  
  
Greenback laughed and Hart went to fetch his drink. It never crossed Greenback's mind to dislike Hart because he was a human. Nothing was wrong with the humans in Steel Alley, Greenback knew, because they were all a part of the Engineer Corps. What this must mean, Greenback figured, was that not all humans were bad and needed to be killed. All they wanted to do was make things fairer for Reploids, so really they didn't have to kill each and every human being to do that. Therefore Greenback wouldn't have to hurt Hart or any other of his friends in Steel Alley…right? There was no question, actually, because Revolver still hadn't forgotten his ties to Steel Alley, and Greenback was pretty sure that his boss wouldn't ever be a part of anything that could threaten their old home. Before the frog could ponder this any further, a voice he hadn't heard in years invaded his sound receptors.  
  
"Well, well, well! Look who decided to come hopping back here after all this time! What's wrong, Greenie? Didn't think we were good enough for you?"  
  
Greenback spun around on his barstool, and the expression on his face was a happy one. There had been no mocking tone in the speaker's voice, since he was a good friend after all. The toad leapt enthusiastically off the barstool and bounded towards a tall Reploid with grayish white hair. He sported armor that wasn't quite black, but blue enough that it was pretty close to it, and the said armor was flecked with all kinds of little adornments, such as white and gold trimming and the occasional red glass gem. His helmet sported a red glass visor that he now had flipped up to reveal a handsome, youngish face, complete with bright eyes and a confident grin. Greenback bounded onto a stool next to the Reploid, and Hart followed him that way with the drink, looking a bit annoyed at having to walk the extra distance.  
  
"Been way too long, Greenback," the Reploid said in way of second greeting.  
  
"Yes. Is good to see that Dynamo remembers Greenback."  
  
Dynamo produced a rich laugh. "How exactly am I gonna forget a face like yours?"  
  
"Ah, Greenback cannot help it if he is not stud." The toad chuckled as he took his drink from Hart. The bartender refused pay, insisting that the Corps would take care of it. Greenback had always wondered where the Engineer Corps kept their treasury, or if they even had one. "Greenback cannot be as perfect as Dynamo…who is still a narcissistic creep, Greenback sees."  
  
Dynamo clutched his arm to his chest and feigned a hurt expression. "Touché." The humanoid took a swig of his own beer, and when Hart came to refill it he shook his head and paid his bill, done for the night.  
  
"No special treatment for me, Hart?" Dynamo's voice came honest and convincing, but he threw in one of his tones that made it obvious that he was kidding.  
  
Hart laughed and shook his head. "Gotta leave us for a year or two, Dynamo. Then you'll get you're free booze."  
  
"Well, it was worth a shot."  
  
Greenback just shook his head. He had always been amazed at how well Dynamo was accepted in these parts. The Reploid was a mercenary, and had little to nothing to do with the industries of Steel Alley. However he was well known and respected in these parts, and while he was not a member of the Engineer Corps, he made frequent donations and on more than one occasion had settled violent disturbances that might threaten other inhabitants of the area without asking for anything in return, thus garnering quite a lot of admiration. Greenback would never want to be pit against Dynamo in a fight, since from what he'd seen, Dynamo possessed skills that he was sure would put even X and Zero to shame.  
  
"So," Dynamo said as he turned his attention back to his amphibian friend. "What have you been up to? Find any particularly good flies at the Maverick Headquarters?"  
  
Greenback cackled, and this normally disturbing action didn't unnerve Dynamo in the least. "Not exactly, but Greenback did find some scrumptious cockroaches." At this Dynamo actually looked a little revolted, and Greenback cackled more fiercely. "Greenback is kidding! Hah, it has been a while since Dynamo has fallen for one of Greenback's tricks."  
  
"It's been a while since Dynamo has seen Greenback," Dynamo replied, imitating the frog's speech casually.  
  
"Well to answer Dynamo's question, Greenback has been working on a big project. It is one that will make Steel Alley proud that a team of its own soldiers created it."  
  
Dynamo nodded. "Revolver was around here the other day, I hear. I missed him. Who else is working on this?"  
  
"Just Greenback, Revolver, and Chuck."  
  
"Chuck? The woodchuck?"  
  
Greenback cackled yet again. "Good name for him, Greenback thinks."  
  
"Kinda boring name," Dynamo said with a fake yawn. "What sort of project is this?"  
  
"Greenback cannot tell you that." The frog smiled conspiratorially, and since his normal smile was odd enough, the added emotion made the gesture all the more indecipherable, but Dynamo didn't have a problem figuring it out. "But Greenback can say it's the last thing that the Hunters can expect. Heheh…Greenback will give hint. Dynamo has something like it."  
  
Dynamo scratched his chin. "Don't tell me you spent all this time developing some new kind of lightsaber."  
  
"No!" Greenback shook his head rapidly. "No, no, no! Is much better than a lightsaber! Is much better than any handheld weapon!"  
  
Dynamo thought again, and took a wild guess. He spread his thumb and pinky finger out on his right hand to form "wings" and glided his palm across the tabletop while making a low "whoosh" sound.  
  
Greenback clapped once and laughed. "Yes! Only ours is much bigger and fatter than Dynamo's airplane."  
  
Dynamo chuckled. "I'd hope, since my jet is just a one-seater used to get me from home to the bar."  
  
Greenback finished his drink, emptying the contents in his wide mouth. "Greenback, Revolver, and Chuck have worked a very long time on our project, and it is almost done! All that is needed is little things."  
  
"Great," Dynamo said with a grin. "Then things'll get interesting between you and the Hunters again, right?"  
  
Greenback nodded, grinning evilly. "Very, very interesting."  
  
Dynamo smiled inwardly. He favored neither party in the war, since he found them all to be a bunch of hypocrites. The Hunters wanted to defeat the evil Mavericks and keep the peace, supposedly saving the world. But even if they did defeat the current Mavericks, the humans would try to press unfair laws on the Reploids, igniting another revolt and a new string of Mavericks, defeating the Hunter's purpose. The Mavericks, on the other hand, claimed to want to get equal rights for Reploids and stop humans from limiting Reploid growth. However, all the Mavericks really did was blow stuff up, and they never got any closer to their goal. Sure they killed a lot of people, but by doing all the brutal things they did just encouraged the humans to come down harder on Reploids, defeating their purpose as well. Dynamo figured, why bother with allegiance? He was powerful, smart, and a free spirit by nature. He played both sides as a mercenary, taking virtually every job. He could probably handle any assignment, but he kept a low profile. If he made it known just how skilled he really was, armies would try to lay permanent claim to his services, and that was the last thing he wanted. With the current peacetime and sudden self-sufficiency of the Maverick army, Dynamo had not had a lot to do. If war broke out between the two armies again, he wouldn't be quite so bored. "That's good to hear, then. Should get you guys some more spring in your step, eh?"  
  
Greenback nodded agreement. "So what has Dynamo been doing? Still doing whatever he wants?"  
  
"You betcha." The mercenary spun around on his barstool and leaned into the table behind him, crossing his hands behind his helmeted head. "Kinda slow, actually, but the other day I did do some spy work."  
  
"Ohh! What happened?" Greenback had always been interested in espionage, even though he had no skill in that area.  
  
A shrug. "Nothing big. You know that sky castle, Icarus?"  
  
Greenback's eyes got even bigger than they already were. "You got in that place?!"  
  
Dynamo convulsed with laughter. "No, no, my dear frog man. I'm not quite so suicidal…" Actually he was, he knew. Icarus would be the supreme challenge, and he was quite up to it. His lips curled up into a cunning grin. "I did figure out how to do it, though." Greenback's eyes got even wider yet, and Dynamo couldn't help but chuckle at that, too. "Just invaded a few computer systems at the Kerido Building. You know how tight that place is with the Suits. I could have disguised myself and downloaded the information I needed right in front of the pukes, but that would have been too easy." The grin widened. "So I just crept in there at night. No one saw me, no alarm system picked me up, nothing. I got me some nice information about the Icarus base, which could come in handy if I ever decide to destroy the world."  
  
Greenback found that very hilarious. When he stopped laughing, he grinned up at his comrade, shaking his large green head slowly. "Greenback would be surprised if Dynamo couldn't do it. But who would want Dynamo to steal something like that? Is it Greenback's employers? That would be ironic…Greenback doing one thing for the Mavericks, and Dynamo doing other thing!"  
  
"It would be, yes, but alas, it is not so." Dynamo's grin became a little more conspiratorial. "Kou Cao's people sent me on this one. Who knows what that guy could be up to this time…? Oh well, it's generally better to leave the Gold Serpent well enough alone, eh?"  
  
"Greenback doesn't believe that Dynamo couldn't defeat the Gold Serpent."  
  
"Dynamo probably could defeat the Serpent…it's the Serpent's legions of guards armed with sharp, blunt weapons that Dynamo is afraid of."  
  
Greenback decided not to pursue the matter. One of the more quiet superpowers in the black market of Megacity 5 was a shrewd man by the name of Kou Cao. No one knew if Kou Cao was human or Reploid, since the man kept himself very well hidden, and did most of his bidding through his underlings. Most people referred to Kou Cao by his nickname, the Gold Serpent. The name had been bestowed on Kou Cao to mock him at first, insinuating that he was cowardly and was afraid to stop snaking around in the shadows. The mystery man had started to wear the name with pride, however, thinking it was rather catchy. If Dynamo was dealing with the Gold Serpent, then it could well be something big, but the Serpent was indeed known for just doing something to know he could do it, meaning he might have just had Dynamo get him the information on Icarus merely for the satisfaction of knowing he could infiltrate the base if he wanted to, never having any intention of actually doing so.  
  
"So anyhow," Dynamo said, yawning. "Enough about me, fantastic as I may be…how's Revolver holding up? Didn't get mangled in some giant gears yet, I hope."  
  
"No, not yet. Revolver is in good shape, and is very proud of what he made." Greenback puffed out his chest. "All are proud."  
  
"I can't wait to see what you've come up with," Dynamo said. "I feel left out. I wanna be proud, too."  
  
Greenback cackled. "Dynamo is proud enough. Too proud sometimes, though Greenback thinks its funny. Anyhow, Dynamo will like this a lot." The toad rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, yes…if Greenback knows Dynamo at all, Greenback knows that Dynamo will be a very happy person when this is over."  
  
Dynamo felt the corners of his mouth twitching back into a wide grin. "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"  
  
Greenback gave Dynamo another evil grin. "Do not worry. Dynamo will not have to wait long at all."  
  
Generally, the earlier observation made by Cartwright that the Mavericks were putting a little too much manpower into this little mission would have been totally correct. Were the smuggled goods small and easily handled, the Mavericks would have been able to just pick them up at the train's next stop, and casually march back to their base. However, given the size and importance of these parts, it was impossible for the said casual march. They had to be able to ditch the train with the goods when it was closest to the path leading up to the Catskill Mountains and, eventually, Seraph Castle. To do this, a team of five troops would probably be adequate, but the awkward nature of this mission meant that they were almost certain to arouse suspicion.  
  
Plans for the smuggling had been drafted by Terrornova's Teytha, who was at this point counting on Hunter interference. She'd spent a lot of time worrying about how to handle them, and had come to the conclusion that it would be extremely difficult for the Hunters to put troops on their train once they started moving. So, if there was any skirmish to be had, it needed to happen at the end of the mission, when they had the goods in their possession and could escape. Then came the possibility that the Hunters would throw caution to the wind and try to destroy the train car to deny the Mavericks the supplies they needed. Not only did Teytha know that they were more than capable of destroying the train, but worse, she had no idea how to stop them from doing it. So, she had decided to make sure that they would at least be able to secure as much of their prizes as they could, even if the train was blown to pieces.  
  
To do all she wanted to do, she would need more than four or five troops. In addition to those needed to simply transport the materials, she needed people who could defend and fight. She had ultimately decided that ten soldiers would be enough, plus her and another commander, to form a solid defense for the train, and she would place ten other soldiers along the tracks on the way to the drop point, where all Mavericks would "abandon ship". If the Hunters somehow got on board the train, these ten extras, all of whom would be snipers, would be able to pick most of them off, providing a relief for those already on the train, since there wasn't much room to fight and with twelve people on the train on the Maverick end, plus whatever the Hunters managed to get on board, things could get cumbersome.  
  
She had selected ten of the all around best soldiers they had, many of whom were survivors of the quarry incident, and had asked Malevex to deliver to her his ten best snipers. She'd also made sure that Malevex himself would be able to step in with some last minute support if need be, though he would be positioned on the road to Seraph Castle, so he would be of no immediate help if the train itself came under attack.  
  
As far as the commander she would take with her on the train, however, she had thought a little more carefully about that. It would have made the most sense, seemingly, to take Malevex or Gredam, but if there was a possibility that the Hunters could destroy the entire train, which there was, Teytha didn't think it a good idea for more than one of the three main commanders to be on the train at one time. She figured it was a bad idea for her to be on there, even, but all three of them had agreed that they wanted someone completely competent guarding the parts they were going to be smuggling, since they couldn't afford for them to fall into Hunter hands. Teytha had insisted she be the one to go, claiming that "completely competent" excluded all men, and that she wanted to make some use of herself. Gredam and Malevex had reluctantly agreed, and Teytha had opted to take along someone else just in case the Hunters did indeed board the train.  
  
And why not? With the wide array of Mavericks, each with their own unique abilities, there had to be someone well suited to a mission like this. Teytha had decided that she needed someone who could fly, since they would have perfect mobility fighting on top of train cars. She had the option of Cyber Peacock or Storm Eagle from Seraph Castle, and she knew Storm Eagle was more than capable of doing the job. He'd been a part of the planning, and had been willing to go, but Teytha had figured out a while back that Storm was gifted with intelligence, a rare commodity among most of the Maverick soldiers, and she didn't want to risk him quite yet. Cyber Peacock, her other option, was more prone to hovering in one spot, and since the train would be constantly moving at a fast pace, she doubted he'd be very useful.  
  
That meant she'd have to look elsewhere. She'd found a suitable candidate almost immediately after a quick check with some of her old friends linked to the Gold Serpent, a man who was, among other things, an information dealer. The Maverick known as Blast Hornet had resurfaced in a Sub City, and he was quite off his rocker. Teytha had snatched him up before the Hunters could destroy him, and the Mavericks had done a bit of a fix up job on the bee's mind to make him a little more competent. The result was less than perfect, and it was unlikely that Blast would ever have a personality again. The bee was, for lack of better term, a drone, and that suited Teytha's purposes perfectly. He would do what he was told precisely, and he'd do a good job of it.  
  
She could, in fact, have taken a whole squad of flyers to be safe, but she'd scrapped that idea quickly enough. They would actually have to board the train somewhere, and it would be a lot easier to smuggle a lot of humanoids onto a train than it would be to get a bunch of beast men past security. The actual boarding point would be an old depot station that was poorly managed. It was about two miles out of Steel Alley, and the Mavericks would teleport to a deserted area three miles from there, the only place suitable for teleportation in the area. After they reached the depot, they'd board the train quietly from the back—there was no worry about those managing the depot, since they were all on Cartwright's side—and taking off towards Cartwright's station in Steel Alley.  
  
She was far from happy with her plan, but she was pretty sure it was the best she was going to get. She knew that the Hunters had declared a "Red Climate", meaning security everywhere in Megacity 5 would be tighter than usual, and she was certain that enough red flags would be raised in this mission to attract enemy attention. In fact, the Red Climate was the only reason she didn't have her troops just march through Steel Alley to Cartwright's station; they would certainly be welcomed, perhaps grudgingly, but word of their arrival would definitely get to the Hunters, and they would be in the area in a heartbeat.  
  
Indeed, even now, the said red flags were going off, but they were ever so minor. The conductor of Blackstar 5041 was informed that his train would pause for a longer period of time at the depot outside Steel Alley in two days. The conductor was a bit annoyed, since he generally never had to stop at that depot, and he was even more annoyed by the stupid Red Climate thing that the Hunters had issued and the government was enforcing. He was to report anything that was not normal, even if it was just something stupid like this, but since he didn't really want to lose his job over it, he had a form filled out before he went home for the night. The Hunter analyst who went over the report didn't think a lot of it at all, but noting that it was in Steel Alley, an area that had been sympathetic to Mavericks in the past, and so put it in the pile of papers that demanded a slight bit of attention from someone higher than he. It wasn't much on its own, but soon enough, as Teytha had feared and planned for, the evidence would begin to mount. 


	15. The Invisible Men

1 Chapter Fourteen: The Invisible Men  
  
Vulcan's swordplay had improved greatly over the past few weeks, but that just meant the difficulties of training were getting greater. His saber exploded into that of the training droid's in a flare of conflicting energies before Vulcan broke contact and dashed backwards. The droid raised its sword and charged in Vulcan's direction, swinging its weapon down at the Hunter's shoulder. Vulcan feinted to the right, and counterattacked with a quick slash that drove the droid back a few steps, but didn't defeat it. It came at Vulcan again, and the Hunter met its sword with his own. Vulcan slashed low and the machine blocked it, but it was able to anticipate Vulcan's next slash and countered that as well, extending one of its limbs into Vulcan's stomach, winding the Hunter. The next slash flashed towards the Hunter's chest. He tried to twist away, and the slash took him on the arm, sending a powerful jolt through him. The droid's stun blade wouldn't do any serious damage, but had the battle been real Vulcan might well have been missing an arm. He cursed himself for his carelessness and sprung back at the droid. He hacked furiously, and try as the droid might, it could not counter each and every blow. Vulcan brought his sword down at the droid's shoulder and raised his knee to counter another attack on his stomach. His knee slammed into the droid's abdomen and the saber sheared off the droid's sword arm. Another slash took the droid's head off, and its saber clattered to the ground.  
  
Vulcan deactivated his own saber and took a few deep breaths. Archer had been right when he'd said that Vulcan would get stronger droids to combat. During a normal training session with the rest of his unit, Vulcan would generally have no trouble taking on several droids like this at once. The fact that he'd been hit didn't settle well with him, especially since he was fighting just one enemy. He was the only one in the training room now, as it was late and there was no unit scheduled to use the training room at this time. He was practicing on his own. Normally Rykov would be doing the same, but he had decided to go to sleep early tonight, claiming that it had been too long of a week. Indeed, since the quarry mission, people had been getting a lot less sleep…  
  
Most Maverick Hunter Units were composed of a combination of rookies and veterans, not just all of one kind. Since there were no "rookie units", Vulcan had a few fairly powerful Hunters in his squad, in addition to the promising new recruits. He himself had been hailed by all members of his unit and most of the other Hunters for killing Sigma, even though he insisted that he didn't deserve the credit. It struck him as insane that he didn't take credit, since no one would know otherwise. He could easily have achieved the fame that Hunters like Harrier would have done anything for, but it would have been a hollow victory on his part. He'd know forever that he was taking credit for something he didn't do, and besides, once he claimed something like that for himself, all the real sniper needed to do was step forward to not only unseat Vulcan from his place of prestige, but shame him from that point on. It was much easier to let people just think he was the one who'd killed Sigma, and try to play it down. That got him plenty of respect in its own way, and he didn't run any of the risks that came with taking blame. Besides, he'd just been nearly defeated by a training droid. How could someone think he'd defeat Sigma while putting on a performance like this that was just so…  
  
"Pathetic."  
  
Vulcan, not liking it when other people completed his thoughts, turned slowly to face a tall Reploid in heavy black armor, wearing an equally dark visor over a sneering face. Vulcan growled, wishing he'd not picked tonight of all nights to screw up in battle.  
  
"Just pathetic," the Reploid continued, shaking his head. "You expect people to think that a loser like you could defeat Sigma? You're more of a fool than I thought, and that's pretty bad."  
  
"I'll kindly remind you, Nightchaser," Vulcan said, allowing himself his own little sneer, "I beat you soundly in the weapons match."  
  
Nightchaser laughed with full malice. "You consider that a fight? It was a one-hit kill free for all. You want a real fight?"  
  
"You honestly think I'm that desperate for a pastime?" Vulcan glared at his rival. Harrier had been cocky as hell, and far too overconfident to be an effective friend, leader, or soldier, but he had not been mean spirited really at all. Nightchaser, or Chase, was much different. He had always had something against Vulcan, and since he slightly outranked the silver Hunter, he'd always tried to do whatever he could to make his underling's life miserable. After Vulcan defeated Chase in the Olympiad's weapons match, however, the tables had turned and Chase had stayed away from Vulcan for a bit, and after the quarry mission Vulcan had figured he more than outranked Nightchaser, but his old rival didn't seem to think so, and was determined to spoil as much of Vulcan's fame as he could.  
  
"What else are you gonna do?" Chase tilted his head to one side and made a disgustingly sweet face. "Go visit your girlfriend again? It's been over an hour since your last visit! She must be going through withdrawal."  
  
A jillion ways to inform Nightchaser that Krysta was in no way his "girlfriend" passed through Vulcan's head, but he quickly decided that the flip side of the coin would be far more fun to play in this scenario. "Ohh, I see…you're jealous as hell, aren't you."  
  
Chase's head snapped back. He'd clearly expected Vulcan to be a bit more defensive than that. "W-what are you talking about? Jealous of YOU?"  
  
Vulcan laughed lightly. "You know, all this time I thought you were an ass hole, plain and simple. I had no idea that you were just jealous. Talk about a letdown…"  
  
Nightchaser's eyes burned with hatred behind his visor. "You've got nothing on me, rookie."  
  
"Rookie? I'm hardly that, I think. I passed you by a long time ago, too."  
  
"I could rip you apart any day."  
  
Vulcan rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'd rather not waste my time…" The hard handle of a training stunsaber cracked into Vulcan's helmet, sending a ringing through his ears. The silver Hunter glared daggers and whisked the saber off the ground, igniting the flickering blue blade and meeting Chase's gaze, even though he could not see his eyes. "But, if you insist…"  
  
Chase laughed and activated his own stunsaber, reducing the charge to as low as possible. Vulcan did the same and then the two rivals hurled themselves at each other. Chase struck rapidly and ferociously, but Vulcan's lighter armor gave him the superiority of speed. Silver countered black with ease, but offered no attack of his own. Finally, Chase pulled away a little, and came at Vulcan again with a wide horizontal swipe. Vulcan swung his saber in the exact same motion, smashing it into Chase's in mid flight and while the shock of the unexpected impact startled Chase, Vulcan dashed forward and slammed his saber into his rival's midsection. Nightchaser doubled over, but the low setting on their weapons meant that he was hardly defeated. He glared furiously and spat in Vulcan's direction.  
  
"You think getting lucky once means anything? Let's see what you can really do!"  
  
"As you wish," Vulcan accepted, racing towards Chase and launching his own string of attacks. High, low, high, left, low, right, Chase countered them all, much to Vulcan's surprise, and just when the silver one was going to enter a more complex series of strikes, Nightchaser attacked with a full body rush, driving Vulcan back and sending him staggering for a few steps. Chase took the opportunity to dart up and thrust his saber like a lance into Vulcan's chest. The tip of the sword flared and Vulcan flew back into a heap on the floor. He quickly collected himself, feeling the effects of the stun blade coming on, but he shook them off to the best of his ability.  
  
Chase was laughing. "What a novice mistake. Can't you do any better than that?"  
  
Vulcan just stared icily. "To use your words, just because you got lucky once doesn't mean anything."  
  
Chase stopped laughing, though he still snickered a bit, and waved Vulcan on. The silver Hunter charged, sword arm extended to the side as though preparing for a wide horizontal slice. Chase prepared for that and swung his sword in a counterattack when Vulcan got close enough, but Vulcan leapt back at the last minute and Chase swung at thin air. Furious at being tricked, Chase looked for his next opportunity, but Vulcan wasn't making it easy. He leapt in to one side and pretended to swing, but then pulled away at the last minute. Nightchaser swung at thin air a number of times, adding to his rage, and even worse, Vulcan sometimes did swing and clipped the black Hunter when he couldn't turn to counter in time. He was definitely outmatched in the speed department, he knew. He charged in Vulcan's direction, determined to stop his attack pattern, but Vulcan easily darted away, coming back in with a very rapid series of slashes. Lots hit, but Chase was able to deflect some. His saber swings became more powerful and as he channeled his rage, Nightchaser was able to unload a full barrage of powerful attacks on Vulcan. The bright flash of conflicting sabers and the sizzling clang they emitted filled the training room over and over as the two swordsmen relentlessly attacked and counterattacked, both getting tired fast. Finally, Vulcan dropped to the ground and swept his legs out towards Nightchaser's knees, but his rival anticipated this and dropped his sword down. It landed harmlessly if not awkwardly between Vulcan's legs, and the silver Hunter spun around and up, his legs in the lead, kicking Chase repeatedly and whipping his saber up across the black Hunter's chest.  
  
Shocked, Chase collapsed to his knees. He wasn't totally stunned, but he was still having trouble shaking it off. Then he felt the foreboding warmth of Vulcan's saber near his face and he stopped struggling. Seething gloriously, he glared up at Vulcan's static face.  
  
"Ready to give it up?" Vulcan asked in an even tone. Chase grumbled something unintelligible and Vulcan narrowed his eyes and retracted his blade. Almost immediately Chase's sword flung out at him. He should have expected it, he knew, and he thought he had, but obviously not well enough, because when he countered with his own weapon it was awkward and it shook his concentration enough for Chase to explode up from the ground and crash bodily into Vulcan, sending him flying across the room. Nightchaser covered the distance between the two easily and smashed his weapon down into Vulcan's chest, with the blade set to full stun.  
  
For a while Vulcan couldn't believe the audacity of Chase's cheap attack and his switching of the power level of his weapon. The man had clearly been defeated and all he had left was his own ego to protect, and he'd cheated his way into this fake victory.  
  
"Who's laughing now, great hero?" Nightchaser was indeed laughing quite a bit, much to Vulcan's disgust. "Man who defeated Sigma, my ass."  
  
"I'd sooner believe he defeated Sigma than I'd believe you defeated a single battle drone on any rank higher than 'fledgling'." Both Chase and Vulcan, who was recovering from the stun fast enough, turned to face the owner of the new voice. He was a medium sized stocky human wearing the thick blue vestments of the Hunter's air force, complete with the golden wing epaulets on both of his broad shoulders and black, gold-rimmed boots on his feet. Thick brown hair covered his head and his eyes were very gray, though there were blue flecks here and there. The Hunters had an infantry, of course, and had a single unit assigned to naval missions, but they also commanded a fairly decent air force. Mostly led by their flyer Reploids, the air force also allowed for small, single-seater combat jets. They were piloted mostly by humans, and were equipped with all sorts of weaponry. Vulcan had never seen this man before, but apparently Nightchaser had.  
  
"Keep your nose out of this, Alec. This isn't your fight."  
  
Alec looked reprehensively at the Reploid, who although was much taller than he was, still didn't seem to intimidate the human much at all. "You used a dirty goddamn trick, and you call that a victory? Shit, Chase, you're a real loser."  
  
"I said," Chase growled, turning away from Vulcan and staring hard at Alec, "this ain't your fight. I won here, see? You can yap about it as much as you want, but…" He smiled coldly, glancing back at Vulcan and continuing as mockingly as possible. "This boy just wasn't good enough." Before anyone could say anything else, Chase tossed his stunsaber at Vulcan, letting it ricochet off the silver Hunter's helmet again, and strode off out the door, looking mighty proud of himself.  
  
"What an ass…" Alec grumped, turning and extending a hand to Vulcan. "You all right?"  
  
Vulcan nodded and accepted the man's hand, careful not to pull him down, since Reploids were very heavy, but to his surprise Alec had no trouble staying upright. Once on his feet he stared where Nightchaser had left, frowning gloriously. "Has he always been like that?"  
  
"As long as I've known him," Alec said with a shrug. "I've been here for five or so years, and he's been around for two of them. I don't think the guy has a single friend, save for the losers who stalk around at night like this is their goddamn playground." The human switched the expression on his face from disgust to interest. "So! I hear you're the man who took Sigma's head off. Bloody awesome job."  
  
"Not really," Vulcan replied, warily. "I didn't take that shot, but everyone's convinced that I did."  
  
"Modest, eh?" Alec shrugged. "Well whether you did it or not, it's gotten you quite a lot of respect around this place. Don't take that clown seriously about anything."  
  
Vulcan snorted. "I'll take a bath in hot acid before I take Nightchaser seriously."  
  
"Good, then." Alec picked up one of the training sabers and twirled it in between his fingers. "I think there's a guy named Kyre in your unit, that right?"  
  
Vulcan nodded. "You know him?"  
  
Alec nodded. "Kyre and I go way back. Not really great friends or anything, but he's always got some crazy ass story to tell whenever we hit a bar. You know how he's holding up?"  
  
"He's gonna make it, they say. Only question is how long it'll take for his systems to repair themselves. Nanobots can only work so fast, y'know."  
  
"Tell me about it…it's a lot worse bein' a human. All you got going for you is an immune system, and mine's for shit."  
  
"You have some kind of disease?"  
  
"Naw, my immune system just sucks naturally." Alec grinned, extending his hand for a different reason. "Alec Tremont. I'm in the air force, but that's a big duh."  
  
"Vulcan," he replied, returning the handshake, "Unit 5, infantry. But there's another big duh."  
  
"Agreed," Alec said with a chuckle. "What kind of stuff do you specialize in?"  
  
He shrugged. "Swordplay, distance rifles, guns in general."  
  
"Christ, man, you got it made. All I do is fly planes and shoot missiles."  
  
"'All' you do? Seems like fun to me."  
  
"It is, until there's nothing to shoot at anymore. Flying itself is a blast, I think, especially those jets we have."  
  
"You use the Ravens?" Vulcan asked hopefully. He knew of a few of the Hunter jet styles and the sleek Raven class was probably their fastest bird.  
  
"What else?" Alec replied with a grin. "Those sunzabitches can zoom! Don't have very many, though. Hell, we don't have very many planes in general. Most of the sky support comes from the Megacity Army, which I think is stupid, y'know? Why not just give us all the support we need? Why divide it up?"  
  
Vulcan laughed. "I don't think we'll ever learn for sure how a politician thinks, Alec. Frankly I'm just fine with not knowing."  
  
"Agreed," Alec said, and stifled a yawn. "Well, nice meeting ya, Vulcan. Maybe I'll see you around again, and we can figure out a way to stuff dynamite into Chase's undies or something."  
  
Vulcan laughed harder. "I'd rather not go near those, but I'm sure we could figure something else out. Take care."  
  
The division of the Hunters that was devoted to espionage and data analysis was generally unseen by most of the other people in Hunter Headquarters. The same held true for the spies and analysts themselves, earning them the nickname "The Invisible Men". They spent most of their time poring over information gathered by their various sources and determining whether or not there was a threat. Their job was not coveted, nor were they paid extremely well, but they weren't forced to fight when needed, and for most of them it was more fun to spy anyway.  
  
Caligula, the Chief Spook, had pushed Signas and Dr. Cain to declare a Red Climate, or a period of increased awareness in anticipation of a Maverick attack in response to Sigma's assassination. A little over a week had passed, and Caligula was not yet convinced that the Maverick infrastructure had fallen apart. The Invisible Men were determined to spot any Maverick plot before it became a problem.  
  
It started with a report the previous night by Blackstar 5041 that stated it would stop longer than usual at the depot outside Steel Alley, an area that was known for its sympathy with the Mavericks because of its blasted Engineer Corps. This had been treated as minor news until another analyst went over it and decided to follow up on it, noting that most trains just passed right into Steel Alley. What he learned was that the depot outside Steel Alley was run by a Reploid named Cartwright who also managed the train station inside Steel Alley, and that he actually never had any train stop at that depot unless there was something obviously wrong with it. Noting that there was no report of anything being wrong with Blackstar 5041, the analyst thought this was a little odd. He would never have thought this, though, if he had not coincidentally been involved with a past investigation into Cartwright.  
  
During the Second War, Cartwright had been accused of smuggling goods to the X-Hunters, who without those goods would have been unable to complete a lot of their more destructive war machines. Cartwright had vehemently denied the charges and the whole of Steel Alley rose to defend him. The analyst working on the case now had looked into Cartwright's past when just an apprentice to a more capable spook. The older spy had done most of the work, but the analyst had picked up some information nonetheless that more or less confirmed Cartwright's guilt. The problem was, it was the sort of information that would both compromise an important source and probably fail to hold up in any kind of court, so it had been deemed useless to try and indict Cartwright for this smuggling act, though he was placed under closer scrutiny for some time.  
  
Knowing that Cartwright was a smuggler and that he was stopping a train at a depot he never really used set off a mild alarm bell in the analyst's head, and he set the information aside in case he came across some more proof. It came in the form of a scout report from one of the Hunter spies in Steel Alley that stated that a frog Reploid bearing a tattered Maverick crest was seen recently in the area. The spy followed the frog and observed it entering Cartwright's station. Now, there were plenty of retired Hunters and/or Mavericks working Steel Alley with their crests still worn, and people took it as a sign that people were proud of their pasts. However, knowing that Cartwright might possibly be smuggling something tomorrow night, when Blackstar 5041 was scheduled to delay in the depot, and then knowing Cartwright met with a frog Maverick seemed to say something. The analyst turned over his suspicions to his superiors, and they climbed up the ladder of rank at lightning speed.  
  
Caligula moved in his usual way, striding down the halls with an air of indifference, the bottom his ever-present trench coat trailing behind him over the floor. The coat was a bit too big for the short Reploid, but Caligula refused to get rid of it. He'd had some of his best brainstorms wearing this coat, and even though the master spook was not very keen on superstition, he'd still be damned if he ever threw this garment away. The leader of the Invisible Men stifled a yawn as he neared his office. He was sick of all the late nights, but then, he was the one who'd pushed for a Red Climate in the first place…  
  
As he passed through his office door he didn't bother to stifle the next yawn, and so was delayed in acknowledging the other man in the room. Already seated in a chair across from Caligula's desk was a tall, shrewd looking human. He wore glasses with rather small lenses, and had a head full of untidy white hair. Caligula had originally figured him for another computer nerd who'd work with their mainframes, but Kevin Seitz had proven his boss wrong on both counts. Seitz was far more outgoing than Caligula would have ever guessed, and he proved quite useless with computers. He was instead the best analyst Caligula had ever come across, and currently the head spy was grooming Seitz to replace him when the time came, though the human didn't know that.  
  
"How goes life, boss?" Seitz asked easily as Caligula hung up his coat and took a seat behind his large, cluttered desk.  
  
"Sucks," Caligula answered simply, digging through the mound of papers on his desk in search of the file he had called Seitz in to discuss. "I got more than I bargained for with the Red Climate, as usual."  
  
"People calling in to report suspicious characters on their streets," Seitz began lazily, "and the suspicious characters turn out to be poodles. People call in to report strange noises coming from a nearby building. We investigate and find a radio with its volume set too high."  
  
"Pretty much," Caligula agreed. "People don't pay any attention to the dangers going on around them, and when we do alert them, they still ignore the danger around them and freak out about everyday things. Maybe we should just keep them guessing from now on…"  
  
"Come on," Seitz said with a chuckle. "That's cold. People deserve to know if a Maverick is planning to disembowel their entire family."  
  
"Don't be silly," Caligula argued back, pointing to an article in one of the old newspapers that cluttered his desk. "Most humans don't need a Maverick to disembowel their family. They can do it well enough alone."  
  
"Ah, there it is, the Black Humor of Caligula."  
  
"Secret to my success, Kevin," the Reploid said with a grin as he finally unearthed the file he was looking for and handed it to his protégé. Seitz read it quickly, and then reread it twice before looking back up at Caligula, already coming up with the same solutions his boss had.  
  
"Something interesting actually came out of the Red Climate, eh?"  
  
"We're not sure," Caligula shrugged. "But we do think it's worth looking into."  
  
"Mm…" Seitz read the file yet again and set it back on Caligula's desk. "So basically there's this smuggler in Steel Alley who may or may not be planning to smuggle something for the Mavericks tomorrow night. I agree, we should probably look into it, but how?"  
  
"Well, you know we've got men down in Steel Alley."  
  
"Of course, but this depot where the train is supposed to stop…it's got a wide area around it. How are we gonna cover it all without alerting the Mavericks? I do assume you want the Mavericks to appear, right?"  
  
Caligula nodded. "The information pulled from the Maverick bodies at the quarry didn't reveal much useful information. Apparently the troops aren't being told much…if we can catch a Maverick alive we'd be in great shape."  
  
"Still," Seitz said, rubbing his chin in thought, "that's a big area, and you can't teleport very close to it. Meaning, yes, the Mavericks will have to appear a certain distance away, but we can't tell where. Unless…"  
  
"Go on," Caligula urged.  
  
"Unless you have a way to plant someone at the depot and just wait for the Mavericks, but that's risky for both the mission and the agent. If the people at the depot think something's up they'll alert the Mavericks and it'll be over. On the flip side, if the Mavericks do come, and there's a lot of them, what's the agent to do?"  
  
"Call for help," Caligula said simply. "We'll have a team standing by if anything happens. Unlike the Mavericks, we can afford to run through Steel Alley without hiding ourselves, and if the Mavericks are already at the depot, where are they gonna go, even if someone alerts them?"  
  
Seitz thought for a minute and nodded. "Overly simple. I figured you had something more complicated in mind."  
  
Caligula barked out a short laugh. "In some things, old ways work best."  
  
"I see…" Seitz leaned back in his chair and relaxed a little. Normally no one would dare do that in the office of a department chief, but Caligula was well known for his lax attitude toward proper behavior. "Any word on the inner circle yet?"  
  
Caligula shook his head slowly. "I only wish…with Sigma dead we have to assume there's some kind of interim leadership, especially if they're still carrying on missions. We know Bit and Byte and probably Cyber Peacock are among their ranks, so they could well be in charge, though none of them save Peacock has ever shown much leadership ability. There were two Mavericks in the quarry who seemed to be giving orders, and Zero found another one who he apparently knew somehow. Those are our suspects but we really don't know anything about them."  
  
Seitz frowned. "Any word on Grizzly Slash? I bet he could fill in a lot of holes…"  
  
"Heh…" Caligula leaned back in his own chair, stretching luxuriously. "For a guy his size, he sure can hide away real well. We have absolutely no idea where he is."  
  
"Well," Seitz said reasonably, "bears gotta hibernate sometime, y'know? And if he really lived through all four wars, he's got a pretty good cave somewhere. Can't really hope for much as far as finding him, I guess. How about the murder investigations?"  
  
"Hmph…Zero didn't have much to say at all, which is odd considering he got pretty toasted in the slums. Delates, one of Zero's boys, missed most of the action while tracking an enemy sniper, but he said Zero looked like he'd seen quite a few ghosts when he found him."  
  
"Hmm…" Seitz frowned even more. "So, Zero could probably fill in a lot of holes, too…"  
  
"Maybe, maybe not." Caligula shrugged. "That guy's got a terribly large list of secrets, I think. I'm not sure I want to know half of it…anyway, he's not talking, and he's the one person I'm not gonna harass."  
  
Seitz nodded. "So, has anything else come up that doesn't involve poodles or radios?"  
  
"Got a guy who was very convinced that a fire hydrant was Split Mushroom," Caligula said with a grin, "but not much else."  
  
"All right, then. One lead out of two weeks…what a drag. Who you gonna send after the Mavericks, if they come?"  
  
"Commander Zegmann's unit is itching for some action," Caligula said from memory, "but I really don't know. That's up to Signas and Cain. I suppose X and Zero will be standing by, but I don't know how this'll all play out. We may have an easy apprehension of a few Mavericks, or we may have a full blown train battle." Caligula rested his chin in his hands and frowned. "We'll have to wait and see. I hate waiting."  
  
Seitz nodded agreement while forcing himself not to yawn. "Got the time?"  
  
"Yeah, it's Too Late." Caligula stared apprehensively at the clutter on his desk, knowing he should be working on them but not caring. "Hell, I'm done for the night. You too, unless you plan on flirting with the night secretaries again."  
  
"You need to tag along next time," Seitz laughed. "I can just see it…Chief Spook Caligula, ladies man extraordinaire."  
  
"Don't make me throw this at you," Seitz's boss threatened as stood, motioning to the newspaper he was rolling up to take back to his quarters.  
  
"Come on, man," Seitz said as he got to his feet. "Haven't you ever seen one of them old Bond flicks? Spies get the girls."  
  
"Ever notice how the girls always vanish before the next movie?" Caligula asked in a rational tone as he draped his coat over his shoulders. "I don't need a Gary Condit nightmare at the moment, thank you."  
  
"Man," Seitz shook his head while laughing, following his boss out of the office. "That happened so long ago it's not even funny."  
  
"So?" Caligula shrugged as he locked his office. "The press'd still dig it up." He snorted a laugh and started for his quarters. "They're far better spies than I'll ever be." 


	16. Hot Pursuit

1 Chapter Fifteen: Hot Pursuit  
  
Night changed slowly into day, and day into evening. The Reploids working the railroad depot east of Steel Alley were none the happier for it, as they'd have to stay at their jobs later tonight. Cartwright had made sure all of them knew to expect some Mavericks—friends of his, not the insane variety—who would quietly board the train while they kept the conductor busy with security papers they'd blame on the Red Climate. It was a simple plan, really, and it would be speedy enough. Then they could all go home and crash for the night, or more likely, hit the bar.  
  
The Mavericks were due to arrive at ten, when the working hours would be well over but when the majority of Steel Alley would still be out and about, socializing or getting drunk or both. No one would notice them that way. Though none of the depot workers knew or cared, Teytha's team would be materializing in an area full of deserted warehouses roughly three miles away from the quarry. From there it would be mad dash to the station, a feat that would take most of them about fifteen minutes, since Reploids could reach high speeds regardless of their armor, though that heavy piece of clothing did indeed make some amount of difference. That meant, to maintain the 10:00 deadline, the Mavericks would probably teleport in at around 9:30, just to be safe. Blackstar 5041 itself would arrive at the station at anywhere between 9:45 to 10:00, depending on how well the train was operating on this particular day. It didn't really matter who showed up first, the train or the Mavericks, since it was easy to hide the Mavericks if they got there first and even easier to just have them board the train if they got there after the train, when the conductor was in the depot office filling out security forms.  
  
At 9 o'clock, however, a most unexpected thing happened. It was something that had happened before, for sure, and the depot workers had a good snigger about it. One of Cartwright's lackeys had gone outside to stretch his legs when he'd heard the roaring of a motorcycle. He'd immediately gone for his friends, fearing that the Hunters might be coming their way, but they all relaxed when they saw a frantic and rather annoyed Reploid sitting alone on the bike. He waved to them and pulled up next to the train tracks, and two of the depot workers came out to meet him.  
  
"Hey!" The Reploid turned off the motor and removed his biking helmet, revealing a head full of wild red hair. "Sorry to bug you guys at this hour, but I'm in a real spot!"  
  
"What's up, man?" asked one of the workers, a Reploid wearing a torn black tee shirt over his rusted work armor, making him appear quite ridiculous.  
  
"Have you guys like, seen two Reps zoomin' past here?" the biker asked, almost desperately. "One of 'em was wearing biker leathers, like mine, see? The other was a chick, long blonde hair, green work armor, both of 'em on a bike?"  
  
"Nope," replied the same worker, "Whatcha lookin' for?"  
  
"Shit, man," the biker said with a sigh, shaking his head. "That guy, you give him a woman and he loses track of like, everything! He ran outta the bar with her, and you can imagine why they'd wanna be alone."  
  
The other worker smiled, revealing many missing teeth that would have been easy to replace, if he had the cash. "This is one of them guys who's lucky Reploids can't bang, ain't he?"  
  
The biker let out a loud bark of a laugh. "You said it, man! He were a human, he'd be up to his neck in child support…but anyway, I'm hunting his ass down, 'cause he's got most of my cash on him. I had him hold it while I handled a jackass who thought it was funny to spit in my drink," he explained, shaking his head.  
  
"Who won that?" asked the worker in the tee shirt. It was great, hearing about bar fights.  
  
The biker grinned. "I ain't got no black eyes, do I? Broke a chair over the bastard's head. Nobody spits in my drink…anyway, we both kinda forgot about the money after a few drinks, and then he ran off with that chick, and I gotta get my cash back before he spends it on her!" He looked around frantically, as though he had just realized again what he was supposed to be doing. "So you ain't seen nobody come past here on a bike?"  
  
"Just you, pal," said Missing Teeth with a shrug.  
  
"Dammit!" The biker revved his engine up, spinning his bike towards the east, even further past the depot. "Someone back there pointed them in this direction, so if they ain't been this way…" His eyes lit up. "I got it! I know where that horntoad'll get to, I'll be waiting for his ass…" He waved both apologetically and thankfully. "Sorry, folks! Thanks!"  
  
"Sure!" Tee Shirt yelled after the biker, and then proceeded to laugh his fool head off. Missing Teeth joined in, shaking his head.  
  
"What wuzzat?" asked a third worker, this one wearing a path over his left eye.  
  
"Poor bastard who's hunting down his pal," replied Missing Teeth with a chuckle. "Seems all his money's in this guy's pants, which is probably being felt by a blonde chick as we speak."  
  
Eye Patch let out a laugh of his own and turned to follow his comrades into the depot office.  
  
It wasn't a very long time afterwards when twelve streaks of light descended from the sky, unnoticed by everyone except the birds, and transformed into the figures of Maverick soldiers. They were in the center of a circle of abandoned warehouses, remnants of the old Steel Alley, long since abandoned by its benefactors. Decay was prominent on all the structures, and rust covered whatever the overgrown vines didn't hide. The Maverick soldiers, who were all equipped with their individual weapons of choice, were all on a testosterone high. It had been a long time since they had been able to leave Seraph Castle, and they were all itching for the action for which they had been trained to handle. For now, though, while they were alone in a world ruled by Hunters, they tended to huddle close to their leader.  
  
For her part, Teytha didn't waste any time getting moving. She darted swiftly away from the rest of the crowd, slinking around the corners of the abandoned buildings like a cat to make sure no cleverly placed Hunter spy was watching, and rejoined the rest of the group, who seemed thankful to have her back with them. The other commander obviously had yet to earn their trust.  
  
Standing taller than all of them was the menace known as Blast Hornet. Most of his body was blue in color, though rings of black lined the "abdomen" from which his thin legs emerged. The stinger at its end was as sharp and deadly as always, and the four sets of wings on the hornet's back were all intact and ready to carry his weight as high as he needed to go. The Maverick's head tilted town and his eyes met Teytha's, one of the few people he recognized anymore. The frightening sight of a Reploid started moving past his commander, and Teytha motioned with a jolt of her head that the others should follow. She integrated herself in the middle of the hoard, and when she was confident that no one was indeed in the area, she started sprinting. The other Mavericks followed. The run had begun.  
  
They moved faster than any human party could hope to keep up with, though Teytha still had to force herself to run slower than she could, or else she'd leave the others in the dust. The small amount of armor she wore gave her an extreme advantage in agility against anyone else she might encounter, even if it did make her more vulnerable than them all. She didn't rightly care, though, as most attacks had a hard time hitting her.  
  
Blast Hornet didn't run, but rather he hovered, his wings keeping his feet high enough above the ground that he could zoom along with them, as he could never keep up with the rest of them were he running. The wings did make an obvious buzzing sound as they worked, something that made everyone nervous, but no one was in the mood to complain to the bee.  
  
The three miles to Cartwright's depot seemed to be the longest three miles in the world, even though they covered it in little more than fifteen minutes. When it came in sight, Teytha slowed her gait considerably; scanning the horizon rapidly and making sure both of her lightsabers were ready to be used. If the Hunters were waiting for them, this was their only chance to turn back.  
  
Blast Hornet seemed to be thinking the same thing. The reconstruction of his mind had, thankfully, done little to hinder his strategic mentality. He touched down on the ground to silence the humming of his wings, and stalked quietly up towards Teytha, while doing his own scan of the area. He met her eyes and nodded once; he thought things were just fine here.  
  
She nodded back and inhaled deeply, finally paying attention to the most important detail of the scene: Blackstar 5041 was not in the station. A quick check of her internal clock told her it was 9:50; the train wouldn't be long in coming. She broke into a full sprint towards the station, and the ten soldiers followed her as best they could, with Blast Hornet bringing up the rear. Cartwright's lackeys met them at the door to the office.  
  
Teytha heard some of the soldiers panting behind her; it had been a long run. For her, however, it had been almost routine, and even if she'd had the ability to break a sweat, she wouldn't have. She looked at the man standing closest to them, a Reploid with a patch over one eye, and spoke the password Cartwright had arranged. "Redwall."  
  
"Yeah, she said Redwall," Eye Patch said to his comrades. "Kinda stupid, the password thing… 'cept at least we know you all ain't a troupe of Hunters."  
  
Teytha nodded impatiently, glancing down the train tracks in the direction they had come from. "Where are we to wait for the train?"  
  
"I'll show you to it, miss," said another worker, this one wearing a black tee shirt. "There's a place behind the unused train cars back there where the conductor won't see any of you at any time. We did all kinds of checks to make sure."  
  
Wordlessly, the Maverick squad followed Tee Shirt down through the maze of broken and decrepit cars, until finally they were all concealed, if not a little spread out. Teytha let out a breath of relief and leaned against the wreck that concealed her. This had been the part she was most worried about…if someone had seen a squad of Mavericks running in the open like that, everything would have been ruined.  
  
They waited for about ten minutes, which seemed excruciatingly long to all of them except Blast Hornet, who just stood quietly and stared blankly at the ground, seemingly oblivious to everything. Then, finally, the rumble of a train became audible. Minutes later the loud horn split the quiet night, and they all heard the train groan as it halted at the depot station. Blackstar 5041 had arrived.  
  
The train's conductor put up a hell of a bitching session before he finally agreed to go fill out the forms Cartwright's people presented him with. Once he was safely inside the depot office, Missing Teeth walked outside, supposedly for a smoke, and sought out the Mavericks. He flashed them an "all go" sign from afar, and then lit up his cigarette and leaned against the side of the building.  
  
The Mavericks nervously began moving towards the train, but they moved quickly at Teytha's urging. She made sure that Blast Hornet was surrounded on all sides be other soldiers, so he'd be slightly less noticeable, and just as five of the troops snuck aboard the easy to open cargo cars, Teytha stopped dead in her tracks. As Blast Hornet stooped and entered a car awkwardly, a motorcycle came from the east. The rider didn't stop at the depot, and didn't seem to notice Teytha and the others standing by the train. He did notice Missing Teeth, however, and hoisted up what appeared to be a money sack of some sort. There was a huge grin on his face. Missing Teeth just pumped his fist in some kind of victory sign, and the biker rode off.  
  
In the office, Eye Patch gave the now severely irritated conductor another form to fill out, and, muttering apologies, went out to the porch, where Tee Shirt was standing, staring fixatedly at the non-moving form of Teytha.  
  
"Whatchoo lookin' at now, boy?" Eye Patch said as he closed the door behind him. "Don't even think about it; she might eviscerate you or somethin'."  
  
"Hey," Tee Shirt said with a large grin, "I can't help it if she's hot. You gonna argue with that, huh?"  
  
Eye Patch laughed and stared briefly in the Maverick's direction before looking back to Tee Shirt. "No arguments from me. But she'd still probably eviscerate ya."  
  
"Heh heh…can't kill me for lookin', can she?"  
  
Eye Patch laughed louder. "Ah…she probably could, if she had the time." Tee Shirt seemed to go a little quiet at this, and then he looked up at Eye Patch finally and, in a considerably smaller voice, asked:  
  
"What does 'eviscerate' mean?"  
  
Eye Patch didn't get to reply, which was probably a good thing, because at that moment Teytha, who had been staring uncertainly at something in the distance, spun on her heel and started moving towards them. She glanced up at the office and jerked her head slightly. Eye Patch took the hint and was about to go in to keep an eye on the conductor, but Tee Shirt, who had suddenly come to the realization that he could quite possibly be killed for looking, volunteered quite kindly to do it for him. Eye Patch let out another one of his hoarse cackles and met Teytha a few feet ahead.  
  
"That biker who just drove by," she began without fanfare, "who was he?"  
  
"A biker drove by?" Eye Patch frowned. "I didn't hear."  
  
"He did," Teytha said, gesturing towards Missing Teeth, who looked up in confusion.  
  
"Hey, come here, D-" Eye Patch stopped short of saying Missing Teeth's real name. They obviously didn't want any of their names being thrown around, since this way it would be harder to implicate any of them if the Mavericks were caught. "Err, just come here!"  
  
Missing Teeth hustled over, smoke pouring out of his mouth and nose. Teytha asked him the same thing she'd asked Eye Patch, and he crushed out his cigarette and shrugged.  
  
"Guy came by earlier, 'bout a few hours ago. He's just a poor dumbass who lost his money in the bar, and he was trackin' down the guy who had it." He grinned. "Looks like he got it, too."  
  
Teytha looked back to Eye Patch, who seemed to understand her concern.  
  
"Wasn't a Hunter that I know of," Eye Patch said simply. "An' even if he was, you all were pretty much on the train already, and we hadn't said anything to him earlier." He shrugged in finality.  
  
Teytha offered a half nod as thanks as she turned and walked slowly back towards the train. Chances were the biker was what they'd said he'd been: a dumbass who was going after his money. But there was also the chance that he was a spy, and that he'd seen Teytha or one of the others. The train more or less blocked the view of anything behind it, but the engine was stopped at the depot office, and once the biker passed that all he'd have had to do was glance behind him for a clear view of whoever was behind the train. Even worse, the biker had come from the east, which was the same direction the Mavericks had come from. If he'd seen them walking towards the station, they'd have Hunters crawling all over Steel Alley in no time.  
  
She knew it was paranoid thinking, but things had gone too well so far. It was time for something to go wrong, she reasoned, so she assumed the worst. Quickening her stride, she arrived at an open car and held it open enough for her to climb in, and let the door clang shut.  
  
It was very dark, she realized. Normally the darkness was her ally, but being plunged unexpectedly into it never helped anyone, and it just briefly added to her anxiety. Someone else in the car seemed to know how she felt. She jumped slightly as a low monotone emanated from behind her.  
  
"Do not worry, miss." She turned slowly, and when her optics adjusted to night vision she saw the outline of Blast Hornet, standing quite still against the wall of the car. "None of our enemies will pass Cartwright's station."  
  
Teytha smiled nervously, wondering how the bee was able to pinpoint her specific emotions. Wasn't he supposed to be incapable of comprehending them? If he could identify them, could he feel them, too? She didn't know the specific parts of the Reploid CPU that dictated their behavioral tendencies, so she couldn't answer the questions for herself.  
  
"And how do you know that?" she asked him softly, wondering if there was a bit of the plan she was forgetting.  
  
The hymenopteran gave what passed as a shrug. "Maverick defenses are too good. It is a fact that the enemy will not anticipate the snipers on the tracks."  
  
Since the only things running through Blast Hornet's head were tactics and strategies, the fact that he thought the sniper tactic was foolproof was very reassuring.  
  
"Maybe," she said, just as softly, "just maybe, we'll get lucky for once. Imagine how quickly Hunter morale would fall if Zero was shot off a moving train."  
  
For those residents of Steel Alley who had work at earlier hours of the day, going to bed any time after 9 was unheard of. So, for those such folks in the Grimshaw Apartment building, near the outskirts of the district, it was quite irritating when that annoying Mr. Kenton of Apartment C came roaring up the street on his motorcycle, parked it clumsily and loudly, and sprinted up the stairs to his dwellings without so much as a glance at the irate old landlord. The redheaded Reploid entered his room and went straight for the phone while producing a large, flat, complicated looking object from the pocket of his leather jacket. He attached it firmly to the back of the phone and checked to make sure it was working—sure enough, there was a low whining squeak instead of a dial tone. The scrambler was set.  
  
"Mr. Kenton" dialed a very long number that only a few people knew about, and before long a bored voice sounded from the other end. "You're on tape."  
  
"Mavericks sighted at Point 45," Kenton said in a very low voice. "High number, ten to fifteen, all armed."  
  
The voice at the other end was silent for a minute. "Positive ID?"  
  
"ID on one Blast Hornet," Kenton went on. "Polaris 232502."  
  
He couldn't see it, but he knew that the voice on the other end had just recoiled. "Polaris" was a term used by the Invisible Men that basically meant "this is serious, no shitting around". The code number, 232502, was one that Caligula issued regularly depending on different situations, and this particular one meant that whoever was taking Kenton's call was to get word to Caligula instantly, and if Caligula was not available he was to find the highest ranking intelligence official he could, which would be Kevin Seitz. It was roughly five minutes before someone answered Kenton again, and it was the boss man. Apparently he'd been waiting for this call for some time.  
  
"8080 Sickle."  
  
"1020 Reaper," Kenton replied quickly, completing the final code. There was no question as to his identity now; Caligula would trust whatever he was told next. "Mavericks sighted in Steel Alley outskirts."  
  
"Shit," Caligula breathed, "go on."  
  
"I passed by the depot while in character. I continued riding east for a very long way to check the old factories, and when I turned back an enemy squadron had turned up. I observed them, and I've got a positive ID on Blast Hornet." He was talking very quickly; time was of the essence. That train would be moving soon if it wasn't already. "Squad numbers 12 including Blast Hornet and a woman they seem to be taking orders from. All seem to know what they're doing. Last contact was made ten minutes ago when they were boarding the train; send your assets directly to Cartwright's station, over."  
  
"Understood. Do not leave your post."  
  
Communications broke there and Kenton disconnected the scrambler. He removed his coat and got comfortable; it would be a long night.  
  
Signas knew it was going to happen, because when something bad has a potential for happening, it has a horrible tendency to happen. Caligula had informed him much earlier of the potential complication at Cartwright's station, and so when the chief spook asked for an extremely urgent meeting, and requested that Commanders X, Zero, Zegmann, and Archer be present, Signas knew fairly well what to expect.  
  
None of those who soon filled Signas's office seemed happy to be awake, but Caligula was bustling about at a speed that suggested exactly how little he cared, handing out crudely assembled briefing papers. One by one the commanders read their briefs and their eyes lit up in understanding, and they looked to Signas for orders. The general just shrugged and motioned to Caligula, who spoke hastily.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, large Maverick contingent spotted at Steel Alley, eleven soldiers plus Blast Hornet. They've boarded a train and are expected to stop at the Steel Alley station. You guys are to stop them from getting whatever cargo they're trying to get from that station. Don't take lots of soldiers, since this'll more than likely come town to a train battle. You've got exactly ten minutes to get your troops and enter Steel Alley, and then approximately ten more minutes before the Mavericks leave that station with their cargo. Have fun! Remember, by the time you mobilize, the Mavericks will have reached that station. Ten minutes is just a guess; it may take them more or less time than that. And that's the whole of it, so get going!"  
  
And go they did. The entire briefing didn't take more than a minute, but they'd wasted precious time in calling the commanders together. Archer politely conceded that this kind of special operation was best left to X and Zero, and Zegmann agreed, though he offered to send three of his better troops with the party. X planned on taking four members of his unit, and Zero figured to bring Delates and five others who specialized in instant operations. All together, X and Zero included, this made for fifteen soldiers, which might be too much for a battle atop moving train cars, but the number would be more than enough to storm Cartwright's station. However, Zero wasn't quite satisfied. Acting on an impulse, he had a private word with Archer, who agreed with Zero's idea and gave him permission to use one of his soldiers, making the total sixteen.  
  
Sixteen soldiers meant sixteen people to find throughout the base. Archer and Zegmann helped X and Zero go hunting, and when X passed by Mason in the halls they had a brief talk and Mason went to the communications center of the HQ, paging the required Hunters and ordering them to report to the Transport Chamber.  
  
Vulcan never heard any of the announcements and, like most Hunters, he never even knew that something was amiss. He'd decided that he'd seen enough of the day, and retired to his quarters. Now that the unit was training again, Vulcan and Rykov were both training vigorously, and Hawkins had returned from the infirmary to continue his friendly rivalry with Rykov. Krysta had finally gotten leave of the infirmary, and she'd come around to watch them, noting that she'd be battle ready again in a week. They did encounter Nightchaser at one point, in the canteen, but ironically enough Alec of the air force showed up at the same time, and Nightchaser stalked off with little more than a sneer in their direction. Alec and Rykov had gotten along quite well, both of them being more than a little rambunctious, and they'd spent quite a while swapping stories of experience. After Vulcan, Rykov, and Krysta had recanted the quarry battle for Alec, who was interested in knowing everything there was to know about any battle, the pilot had rewarded them with stories of his training and the deadly missions he was on, including a particularly humorous one involving a defective ejection seat on April the First… Exactly how much of Alec's storytelling was true, they didn't know, but they couldn't care less, since he'd proven to be quite the storyteller, if you didn't mind the way he interjected a curse in between every few words.  
  
But they did have training to do in the morning, so Vulcan figured it was better to get the shut-eye he felt himself suddenly craving. He switched off the lights and stretched out on the strangely comfortable bed, allowing a state of relaxation to close over him. Reploids didn't necessarily need to sleep any more than they needed to eat, but again, it allowed "down time" for Vulcan's systems to recharge, and that was better than sitting in one of the overgrown batteries that were the recharging bays.  
  
Just as he got comfortable, as is always the case in such situations, the door to his room opened without fanfare. Annoyed, the Hunter rose from his mattress to get a look at the jackass who deemed himself above knocking, but quickly checked himself when he found himself looking at none other than Commander Zero.  
  
Though there was a static expression on his face, an amused smile flickered in the crimson Hunter's eyes as Vulcan snapped out of the bed, nearly getting tangled in his sheet, and stood awkwardly at attention. "Settle down," he said from the doorway. "Get your weapons and suit up. You leave in exactly thirty seconds."  
  
Vulcan blinked and stood idle for all of about half a second before he took action. He had no idea why Zero, perhaps the Hunter most revered by his underlings, was standing in his room and telling him to get ready for battle, but he did know it was a bad idea to keep his superior waiting. He hastily opened his dresser drawer and retrieved the laser pistol the Hunters had issued him as a side arm, which was currently the only personal weapon they'd given him, and he also grabbed his lightsaber. Setting them on top of the dresser he ripped his silver armor out of the small closet and tried to put it on just as hastily, looking incredibly awkward.  
  
"I wasn't serious about the thirty second thing," Zero said with a wry smile. "Hurry, but don't twist your legs off in the process. You're no good that way."  
  
Vulcan felt his face burn, even though he didn't detect anything particularly condescending in Zero's words. He finished donning his armor and whisked up his two weapons, following Zero out of the door to his room and closing it behind him. Zero moved with great haste down a path of halls that Vulcan eventually realized led to the Transport Chamber, which contained a healthy supply of both transport vehicles and teleportation chambers. Vulcan itched to ask Zero why he was being summoned, and what the mission was, but he held his tongue.  
  
Thankfully, Zero didn't make him wait as long as Archer had in the quarry mission, and began talking after a minute or two of walking. "There's a Maverick squad at a station in Steel Alley, a cluster of industry some miles north of here. We've put together a small platoon of our best fighters to go counter them and secure the station. Sorry about the late notice, but we only just learned about it ten minutes ago." Zero glanced at the armaments Vulcan carried on his person and frowned briefly. "Mason will have some weapons available at the chamber. You'll want to take an assault rifle of some sort; we'll be fighting from afar. We plan to be at the Steel Alley station managed by a guy called Cartwright in fifteen to twenty minutes maximum. We'll take the station and if the Mavericks start off on the train we'll board it and fight them off. Any questions?"  
  
"No, sir…" Vulcan, however, couldn't stop a hint of doubt from creeping into his response.  
  
"Don't lie, Vulcan. Only I'm allowed to do that."  
  
Vulcan winced slightly and voiced his concern. "Well, you said that you were rounding up the best of the Hunters to go after these guys…and this job definitely sounds like you'd need the best you got…"  
  
"And the problem…?"  
  
"I don't see how I figure in."  
  
Zero sighed slightly. Apparently he knew this was coming, but had hoped to avoid it. They were coming upon the Transport Center, so he spoke very rapidly. "You did kill Sigma."  
  
"No, I didn't. I took a shot at Bit and missed."  
  
"No, Vulcan, you killed Sigma." Zero stared hard at him. "That's all the people in there know or care about. You think anyone feels happy about responding to a large, highly trained Maverick threat with ten minutes of briefing? It's quite a morale boost to have the man who killed Sigma among them."  
  
Vulcan paled. "I've only been on one mission, sir. I won't be a good morale booster if I'm flattened by a train."  
  
Zero laughed as they passed through the doors to their destination. "Sucks, doesn't it? I know it might not seem fair, but I find it hard to believe you can't handle it." He motioned to Commander Mason, who was issuing out assault rifles quite frantically. Hunters stepped onto teleporting panels and were sent to the area right in front of Steel Alley. Vulcan accepted the weapon and walked without thinking towards the panel. He stepped on with more than a little resignation. At least in the quarry mission, he'd known well enough what he was supposed to do and he'd been surrounded by comrades he knew could back him up if he needed it. Now he was going to be used as a morale booster? It made him feel a bit useless. As he stepped onto the platform, a blue glow surrounded him. He felt his stomach jump briefly and his vision blurred together. For a brief second he felt as though he were on a very fast roller coaster, and his insides were being pressed backwards by the kinetic force. Then, just as suddenly, his body was jerked back into place and instead of the confines of the Transport Center, he was out in the open, outside the massive cluster of grunge and industry that was Steel Alley.  
  
Vulcan had never seen this place before, but the cluster of Hunters racing on foot ahead of him made it clear where he should go. Even before he started, however, a cluster of energies touched down behind him and formed into Zero. His saber was not drawn, but he broke into a run immediately, and Vulcan followed, matching his stride well.  
  
The Hunters soon merged into a cluster as they bolted down the series of roads to Cartwright's station. Those who were wandering the streets wisely ducked out of the way, albeit not without colorful language, and Vulcan was able to better identify who he was working with.  
  
He knew most of the people in Unit 0 and Unit 17, because most everyone did. Therefore it was easy to identify Mega Man X and four of his soldiers: Jasper, Scylla, Shadin, and Lariat. Zero charged ahead with Delates, Feldspar, Tyclammel, and three others with whom Vulcan was actually not familiar with, surprisingly. The three others must be from Commander Zegmann's unit, and Vulcan had no idea who any of them were.  
  
As they dashed around a corner and started on the road to the station, Zero fell back slightly and got in stride with Vulcan. "Of course," Zero said as he exhaled, using all the air he could get to power his working limbs, "a morale booster isn't just supposed to stand around."  
  
"I figured that, sir!"  
  
"Good!" Zero nodded towards the shadowy station that was still far yet in the horizon. "You kicked a lot of ass in that Weapons Match, Vulcan. You may not have killed Sigma, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't be able to." He started forward again, and Vulcan didn't waste breath trying to catch up to his superior.  
  
So, Zero thought he was worth his salt…that if anything was a reassuring thought.  
  
Cartwright inhaled deeply and once more poured all his might into hefting a gigantic crate on his shoulders. Supporting the box on the other end was the creepy hornet Maverick, who grunted and groaned under the box's weight but otherwise voiced no complaint. They moved forward slowly, maneuvering the box out of the storage room, at which point another of the Mavericks appeared and got under the center of the immense crate, making it slightly easier to bear. It seemed like forever until they got out of the station. Immediately, several other Mavericks rushed up to help bear the weight. Apparently they were in quite a hurry, and when they finally got the crate safely loaded in one of the train cars, Cartwright turned and headed back for more. This was not turning out to be a fun night.  
  
The station manager was stopped before reentering his station by the Maverick commander, who briefly took him aside from the others. "Did Greenback go over what you should do if you're discovered?"  
  
Cartwright shook his head slowly. "No, can't say that he did, miss. I figured to just play dumb. Not much they can do without evidence, and I don't believe for a minute my boys at the depot would squeal on me."  
  
"Neither do I," Teytha agreed, staring off into the east down the long, long road leading back to Steel Alley's main square. "However, if the Hunters somehow spot us here with you now, how would you explain that?"  
  
Cartwright blinked, and a pale look flashed briefly across his face. "You think that could happen…?"  
  
"Oh, it could happen." She let out a long breath, staring further down the road. "I don't see them or anything, but if they do come, what would you say?"  
  
"I'd say…well, I…I don't rightly know, miss. I'd figure something out, though." He grinned. "I always have."  
  
"Right…I'm sure." She reverted her gaze back to him, and presented him with the simplest solution of all, a solution he had not imagined to hear her suggest. "If it happens, just tell them the Mavericks captured your station."  
  
Cartwright reeled slightly. "Begging your pardon…?"  
  
"Sure," Teytha said with a shrug. "There's no problem ratting us out when we already have our goods. Just say that we held your station hostage, and even if the Hunters don't buy that, Steel Alley's Engineer Corps will rally behind you. You know that. The Hunters won't have any choice but to let you off."  
  
Cartwright chewed his lip for a moment before nodding agreement. "I guess that works, don't it? But let's hope it doesn't come to that." He glanced back to the door of his station. "The conductor's probably antsy with all the paperwork. Want me to bring him out?"  
  
She nodded. "We've got everything, I think." The Mavericks were all clustered near train cars, lifting the remaining crates into the storage areas. None of them knew what was inside, and that was all the better. Teytha followed Cartwright to the station entrance and when the station's manager went to send someone in for the conductor, the Maverick looked over the train once more. The cargo was loaded. Now all they had to do was start the damn train and they were off. It was about time for her to get on board.  
  
A voice from behind her stopped her cold. "Danger approaches."  
  
Teytha spun around to behold Blast Hornet, looking off to the east as she had done several times already. "The Hunters are coming. We must leave, now."  
  
She drew a sharp breath and though she knew she should spring to action immediately, she was compelled to glance in the direction Blast Hornet was looking to confirm the information for herself. Indeed, she could make out the outlines of many soldiers rushing towards them, though they were still far down the road. "Cartwright!" The manager spun to face her, a puzzled expression on his face. "Forget the conductor! We're gone! Remember what we talked about!" She didn't wait to see if he'd heard, and bolted towards the engine car. The ground behind her exploded into dust as projectiles slammed into it, and the Mavericks erupted into startled chatter and soon enough they were firing their own weapons in the direction of the approaching Hunters.  
  
Teytha leapt into the open cabin and activated what she knew to be the starting controls for the train. It gave a loud whoosh and started moving immediately, although it was a very slow movement. It would take a long time before the train could move at full speed, and they didn't have that time.  
  
The Maverick cursed loudly and slammed her fist against the hard metal wall. The battle she'd been hoping with all her might to avoid was about to take place. 


	17. Shining Time Station Goes Horribly Wrong

1 Chapter Sixteen: Shining Time Station Goes Horribly Wrong  
  
Delates pressed his assault rifle tight against his shoulder while he lined up a shot, holding the weapon still even while the rest of his body was jumping up and down as he ran. This wasn't an easy thing to do, and required a lot of concentration, but Delates—and everyone else in Unit 0—could do it. The Hunter centered the crosshairs on the weapon's barrel on a Maverick who was guarding the slowly activating train, firing at the advancing Hunters with what looked to be an arm cannon. White-hot streaks of plasma zoomed by them without finding a mark, and Delates didn't let them break his concentration in the least. Running ever faster, the cold night air filling his overworked artificial lungs with chilling fire, the Maverick Hunter depressed the trigger, and the assault rifle gave a loud crack as it unleashed a three-round burst. The armor-piercing shells sped towards the Maverick, but he was already moving. No one on either end knew who was targeting them specifically, and as long as they kept moving the shots tended to miss. The Mavericks were shooting frantically, trying to defend their position, and the Hunters were shooting back just as frantically, afraid of letting the Maverick contingent escape with whatever they'd smuggled. Delates's shots thunked into the ground, and one slammed into the back of the train, leaving a small, smoldering hole. Fortunately, however, another salvo of Hunter bullets tore a hole through the chest of the Maverick Delates had just missed, dropping him quickly. Delates found another target speedily and fired at a Maverick rushing to one of the open train cars. The rifle jerked back in his hands as the shots were fired, and Delates had to briefly fight for control. They were using armor-piercing bullets for this mission rather than lasers, since they would probably need to be doing a lot more close quarter destruction, and a wide spray of Armor Renders and explosive ammo would do that job nicely. Delates's bullets found their mark this time, and the Maverick's back erupted into a spray of coolant and shredded metal. His front side literally blew outwards as the bullet shattered and ignited inside of him, burning the explosive coolant and triggering the explosion that destroyed so many Reploids.  
  
For a second, Delates was mad at himself, because they were supposed to take at least one of these guys alive, but there seemed to be plenty of others running around. Blackstar 5041 was beginning to take off, rumbling down the track away from the station. Trains nowadays still started out rather slow before they could get a good deal of speed going for them, but they did start up much faster than older models of trains ever had, and so even at the speed it was going now it was a threat.  
  
At this point, several things happened.  
  
The crowd of Mavericks thinned considerably, and it was immediately obvious why: most of them were scrambling to enter one of the train cars before it sped off or to climb on top of the train. The Mavericks that scaled the rail bound transport were a very big threat, because they could now open fire from atop the train, where it was much harder to hit them, and some were doing so. One Hunter, a member of Commander Zegmann's unit, clutched her shoulder and spat a curse as one of the enemy rifle blasts—the Mavericks were using lasers—found home.  
  
There were, however, a few Mavericks who did not board the train. Of the nine remaining troops, four did not even try to pursue the train, but also did not try to shoot at the Hunters. Rather, they blended into the shadows of the station, presumably entering it.  
  
The crazy firing of the troops atop the train more than compensated for the lack of gunfire from the Mavericks at the station, and it was made infinitely worse when three separate devices shot like razor blades from high in the sky. The projectiles were box shaped yet very thin, and were crisscrossed by blades across the center and protruding at each of the four corners. One skittered uselessly across the ground, and one jammed into Shadin of Unit 17's ankle, tripping her up. However, the Hunter merely somersaulted back to her feet, leaving the projectile in her wake.  
  
The final projectile smacked into one of Delates's comrades from Unit 0, a heavy assault specialist named Lyon, and the pointed corners came to life, burying themselves into his body and emitting strange energy waves. Lyon gave a yelp of both pain and surprise and sank to his knees as the projectile drained his energy out of his internal generator.  
  
Zero saw the whole thing as he came dashing up behind his underling. The projectile was a "Parasitic Bomb", Blast Hornet's trademark. It would continue to paralyze Lyon and suck away at his energy until his internal generator failed, causing that fatal explosion. Unless, of course, someone did something about it. Angling himself towards Lyon, Zero quickened his pace, hoping his soldier would understand, and thrust his foot out as he passed. It caught the corner of the Parasitic Bomb and the kinetic force wrenched the device out of Lyon's body and sent it flying across the ground, a useless wreck. The kick also spun Lyon around violently, and the poor guy landed in a dizzy heap as lasers continued to pelt the ground around him. However, he wasn't in Unit 0 for nothing. As quickly as he'd been felled, Lyon gritted his teeth and shot to his feat, weaving around the hail of bullets to join back up with his comrades.  
  
When that moment of action passed, it was time for the decisive action of the mission. As the train pulled away from Cartwright's occupied station, several Hunters charged after it, Hunters who were still running and dashing at full speed and had been doing so since they teleported to Steel Alley. Their combined firepower forced the two rear guards atop the train to pull back, one with a wounded shoulder, compensating for Zegmann's soldier. When they were close enough, X, Zero, Vulcan, Delates, Feldspar, Scylla, and Tyclammel broke into an even more extreme run that their systems could only handle for a minute at maximum, and jumped. The velocity carried them up through the air like rocket men, and they landed on the hard, vibrating surface atop Blackstar 5041.  
  
The seven Maverick Hunters were instantly greeted with a stream of fire from the two rear guards and a Reploid further down on the track. The Mavericks were retreating back a few cars to gain better leverage while pelting the Hunters with all they had. The salvo tore into the ranks, but the Hunters advanced anyway.  
  
X turned his head back towards the station, which was disappearing into darkness behind him. "Follow Jasper!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, and then turned and dashed across the train with his comrades. The train battle both sides had dreaded had officially begun.  
  
But that was the least of Jasper's worries. X's second in command had heard his leader's final order loud and clear, and so had all the others who remained at the station. This included Jasper, Shadin, and Lariat of Unit 17, Riposte, Seamus, Lyon, and Cort of Unit 0, and the three from Zegmann's team. Of them, Shadin, Riposte, Lyon, and one of Zegmann's had been wounded, and while they weren't in any form of serious condition, they probably would be at a big disadvantage in a fight. So, that roughly meant six against four, and Jasper had a few reserves if need be, wounded or no.  
  
The four hidden Mavericks planned on changing that, though. From one of the station's second floor windows, and from the shadowy storage area far to the right of that, gunfire erupted. The lasers flew out at the Hunters, and at least three transfixed Riposte, who lurched forward, bloody holes in his chest and shoulder, but it didn't seem like his generator would fail any time soon. Riposte choked on a bit of his blood and spat it out as he fell to the right. Cort immediately scooped him up and led him into another shadowy corner behind some crates where gunfire wouldn't reach.  
  
"You dumb bastards!" Riposte shouted back at the station, living up to his name, "you already shot me!"  
  
For his part, Jasper—and most of the others—had opened fire at the flashes of light emitted by the Maverick firearms, and the second floor window now ceased to exist, its border dotted with charred bullet holes. It was doubtful that any of the Hunters had hit anything, since the gunfire had stopped as soon as it had started, and Jasper could only imagine that the Mavericks were repositioning themselves now that the Hunters knew where they were.  
  
It was fortunate that they'd all received the training they had, because they all knew how to handle this scenario. Jasper waved his hand anyway and they all clustered together in the lower area where the second shooter had been. There was no sign of him now, though no one expected there to be, unless it were his dead body. There were no shell casings on the ground, which meant that this Maverick, too, had used a laser rifle. This was good, because shell weapons were wide in variety while lasers were generally always just lasers; not exploding shells, not giant slugs, not poison tipped bullets, just lasers. However lasers did have a tendency to be able to pass easily though thin walls…  
  
"We can't split up," Jasper said quietly. "These guys are obviously assassins, from all we've gathered intel wise, so they have the advantage in these shadows, got it? They'd pick us off one by one." They began to move carefully, slowly, though the darkness into the storage room. The Mavericks had shut out all the lights, which didn't bother the Hunters that much as they were all Reploids, and capable of night vision, but their view was still slightly restricted. They moved together, so as not to be taken down individually, but they were not too closely clustered, so they could not all be taken down at once with a single well placed mine or well thrown grenade. "Cartwright's people are on their side," Jasper reminded them. "Don't shoot them right away, but don't trust them either."  
  
The Hunters looked around the room cautiously. It was wide and large, so they didn't feel up to putting aside their distance rifles just yet, and many crates and boxes were littered throughout the chamber. A Maverick could be hiding behind any of those. If all four were in here, there would be a dangerous predicament indeed. They were also beginning to realize, as they reached the other end of the room, that this was folly. If there was a Maverick in the room, he obviously knew he couldn't defeat all those Hunters at once, and would wait for them to pass by and then he'd escape. If they were going to bring him down, they had to cover the whole room. Wordlessly they all conveyed this message to each other, though they already knew it, and, weapons clutched tightly in a firing position, they crept out around the massive room.  
  
It did not escape them that looking up would be a good idea, and so many did. No one could detect any threat hidden among the rafters and beams above them, but they were still wary.  
  
Lariat of Unit 17, a lion Reploid with a dark red coloration, was more than suited to this kind of hunt. He carried his own assault rifle with an almost careless air. He squinted his eyes, relying on his keen sense of smell. He definitely smelled something in here, and it wasn't any of his comrades. He followed his nose, and found himself stalking closer and closer to a larger jumble of crates in the far left corner, near the place where they'd entered the cargo area. Here Cort of Unit 0 was already standing watch, looking outside for any Mavericks who might be fleeing from the main area. Riposte was also out there, his rifle ready to snipe. No Mavericks would get out unless they went through the Hunters to do it.  
  
Seamus, also of Unit 0, had wisely decided to follow Lariat, knowing that the lion's smell would indeed serve them well here. As it turned out, Lariat didn't need any backup.  
  
A low growl escaped the lion's maw. "Come out, Maverick." Immediately the Hunters turned to look in Lariat's direction. From behind the crates came a soft whimpering and the beginnings of a plea. Lariat was about to dismiss the "enemy" for one of Cartwright's boys, knowing full well it could be a Maverick playing a clever trick, or even holding the station worker hostage, but he didn't get the chance to think things out rationally, for the station worker—for indeed that is what he was—tried to bolt. While executing this unwise action he accidentally overturned the upper crate of the two that were shielding him, and it fell towards Lariat. Honestly believing he was being attacked, the lion snapped his gun into firing position and transfixed the clumsy Reploid, who gave a startled yelp and then spoke no more.  
  
"Stupid bastard!" Seamus snapped, and Lariat growled before realizing that Seamus was scolding the dead Reploid, not Lariat. The lion subsequently looked in Jasper's direction, meeting his superior's eyes, but Jasper merely gave him a look that said he didn't give a damn about the station workers, and nothing would be held against Lariat. Breathing in relief the lion slapped Seamus on the back and, with Cort following them, backing away from the entrance to the storage room after one last look outside, they proceeded further.  
  
They could enter the main station from the storage room via a compact hallway, and Jasper was not stupid enough to lead the whole gaggle into it at once, where they could all be easily blown away. Lariat insisted he didn't smell anything else in the storage room, but Jasper still worried about an attack from behind. Cort again waited at the door, his rifle in a firing position and his body pivoting slowly to scan the whole room. Jasper went down the hallway first, followed closely by Lariat and Seamus. At the end was a short staircase leading up into the main hall of the station. Everything was dark, and as they were in close quarters, their rifles would do little good. Jasper dropped his in a corner, followed by Lariat and Seamus. The latter produced a mine and nestled it behind the three rifles. The Hunters at the other end of the hall saw this and nodded; they could leave their weapons and use their innate attacks if they wanted, and if any of the Mavericks tried to take the guns the mine would go off. Only Seamus could activate or deactivate the mine, though, and so he waited while Jasper crept up the staircase.  
  
The hallway was much wider than the one he'd just exited, and there was a long stretch to the right that probably led to Cartwright's office. There was also a shorter corridor to his left. Jasper's right hand sunk back into his gauntlet, which opened up to reveal a powerful arm cannon. The Hunter stepped cautiously into the hallway, making out a little niche to the left. He might as well explore the shorter area first, he figured. He darted out towards the niche in question, which was an indentation in the wall with a water fountain, and he made it without anyone taking a shot at him.  
  
Lariat peeked out of the safety of the corridor, smelling the Mavericks in the hallway, but not knowing where exactly they were. His diamond tipped claws flickered as moonlight streaming in from a nearby window caught them, and a snarl split the beast's face as he quite suddenly darted far past where Jasper was standing. There was a sudden gasp from a room to Lariat's right, and he dove through it quickly. Immediately Shadin of Unit 17 sprang from the corridor to go help, but gunfire erupted from behind her. She threw herself to the ground, raising her own arm cannon towards the attacking Maverick and sent a screaming ball of flaming plasma flying at him. The Maverick pressed himself against a wall, letting the shot explode into the wall behind him, and returned fire with another salvo of lasers, though he was holding his weapon with only one hand, and so the assault rifle's rounds were scattered. Shadin twisted out of the way as best she could, though her armor absorbed a blast or two. Seamus darted out of the corridor at that moment, leaping over Shadin and charging at the Maverick. The enemy rifle's charge was spent, and he'd have to reload the laser cartridge to fire again, and so he started to convert his own arm into an arm cannon. Seamus never gave him a chance. One of the Hunter's energy daggers flew through the air, the laser hilt burying itself in the Maverick's chest. Wounded and frantic, the Maverick threw his gun at Seamus and tried to run. Seamus was faster, though, and delivered a sharp kick to the Maverick's back, sending him flying across the floor. He landed badly, and the impact drove the hilt of the knife in his chest deeper into his body, piercing his internal generator. He flailed blindly for a few seconds before the generator ruptured and blew a hole through him, ending his life. Seamus darted back to rejoin his comrades, who were now flooding the hallway.  
  
Jasper had not been idle. As soon as Lariat had charged into the room—which turned out to be a simple if not cramped office—he'd followed, but when he arrived at the door a Maverick backed out of it, holding a pistol to the temple of a rather frantic station worker. Lariat was growling fiercely at the dirty ploy, standing not two feet away from the Maverick. Jasper grabbed the Maverick by the shoulder and spun him around and then into the wall. He took hold of the enemy's wrist and applied heavy pressure, snapping it. The pistol clattered to the floor, but the Maverick still fought, burying the fist of his good hand into Jasper's face. The stunned Hunter staggered back, and the Maverick scooped up his pistol from the floor and leveled it at Jasper's chest.  
  
Here, Lariat charged out of the office, threw the station worker back into it, and made it clear why he had the name he did. He snatched a long metal whip from his belt and flicked it toward the Maverick's arm. It wound quickly around his wrist and with a quick tug Lariat spun the Maverick clear around just as he pulled the trigger. The shot—for once, a shell—buried itself harmlessly in the wall near Lariat, and the lion dove forward and slammed his powerful fist into the Maverick's face, sending him flying back into the wall, where he crumpled up in a heap. By this time Lyon, Shadin, and Zegmann's wounded soldier had darted over, and Jasper motioned to the Maverick and the office. Nodding, the three wounded Hunters dragged the unconscious Maverick into the office with the station worker and kept watch over both of them. The Hunters had finally taken a Maverick alive.  
  
They proceeded quickly now. Only two Mavericks were unaccounted for. They ran past where Seamus had made his kill and came to both an office building and a staircase. Lariat grunted and started up the staircase with Zegmann's two troops following. Jasper, Cort, and Seamus went into the office.  
  
Lariat followed his nose again, definitely smelling another life form, probably the one who had fired earlier from the second floor window. His nasty whip was coiled at his side, ready to strike at anything. The upper area was a big mess of desks, papers, schedules, and even a bar. It was in the wide bar area that the trouble started anew.  
  
As Lariat and Zegmann's troops, quiet Reploids who had both retained their assault rifles, neared the center of the room, a grenade had landed at the lion's feet, probably thrown from one of the back rooms. Lariat roared and ran for the opposite end of the room. The other two scattered also, one heading back the way he came and the other moving to a corner opposite Lariat. The grenade went off seconds after it landed, meaning no one got all the way to safety, and the two humanoids were thrown off their feet. Flames consumed the nearby tables, and through them came lasers fired from a loud machine pistol in a back room. They splintered the wooden tables near Lariat, and one cleaved into the armor on his leg. Roaring again, the beast of a Reploid charged through the flames towards the Maverick, who, to his surprise, ran into the room with a fully charged arm cannon, and unleashed a huge green blast of plasma at Lariat. The desperate Hunter leapt as high into the air as he could, but the shot still chewed into his legs, heavily damaging their armor and the circuitry behind it. Lariat gave a howl and came down hard on his legs, which gave out quickly.  
  
Fortunately, the other Hunters weren't quite beaten yet. One of Zegmann's Hunters lined up the approaching Maverick in the sights of his assault rifle and sent a three round burst of armor piercing shells. All three of them hit, destroying most of the Maverick's torso, and the Hunters congregated around Lariat. They helped the lion to his feet and started out the door back down to help the others.  
  
  
  
Downstairs, things had been equally as hectic. Jasper entered first, his arm cannon extended and ready to fire; Cort was next, and his two magnum style pistols were in a firing position; Seamus carried a deactivated lightsaber, ready to turn it on in an instant and rend anything that he considered a threat.  
  
The first person they found was hardly a threat, but he was no more liked than any of the Mavericks they were hunting.  
  
"Hands on your head, Cartwright!" Jasper hissed, training his blaster at the manager's head.  
  
Cartwright glared daggers, obeying, but not keeping quiet, as the Hunters wanted. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You're killing my men!"  
  
"Your men aligned with the Mavericks," Jasper said simply. "Now shut up."  
  
"You think we had a choice?!" Cartwright all but yelped, but Cort silenced him by striding close and pressing both guns to his forehead.  
  
"The man said shut up," Cort said simply, in a deadly even voice. Cartwright did just that, and Seamus activated his brilliant blue lightsaber, waving it at the station manager and guiding him into a corner. Cort and Jasper went through the only other door in the office, prepared for anything.  
  
It was the absolute worst-case scenario. Illuminated by light streaming in through a wide window, the final Maverick stood, holding a rusty dagger to the throat of a terrified middle-aged man. Jasper identified him as the conductor of Blackstar 5041, who probably had no idea that his train had just been stolen, or much less why there was a knife at his throat.  
  
"It's rotten luck, isn't it?" The Maverick's voice was cold and venomous, and if the Hunters were close enough to spit at, no doubt he would have tried it. There was also desperation; the Maverick knew the game was over, and in a hostage situation, it was very bad for the enemy to have no hope.  
  
"Let him go," Jasper said evenly, without making a threat but without making a concession, "this is between us."  
  
"Leave the room," the Maverick said to Cort. "I'll fight this one alone."  
  
"Let him go," Jasper repeated, and Cort made no move to leave.  
  
"You don't have any room to argue," the Maverick said simply, pressing the blade into the human's throat. Blood trickled down the blade and onto the floor, and the man's eyes went even wider in both pain and horror. "The next cut will be fatal, Hunter. Make your decision. I'll die either way, but are you going to let me take this one with me?"  
  
"Cort." Jasper kept his weapon trained on the Maverick, speaking to his comrade without looking at him. "Go help the others." Reluctantly, the other Hunter backed out the door, closing it behind him, leaving Jasper alone with the Maverick and the hostage. "Now let him go."  
  
The Maverick snickered, and then shoved the human to the side. He flew with his shield, tumbling to the floor as he threw the dagger at Jasper, who had not immediately opened fire as the Maverick had expected him to. The dagger clattered uselessly off Jasper's armor, and he ran towards the Maverick, afraid to shoot while the enemy was anywhere near the conductor.  
  
The Maverick removed his hand from behind the human, and in it was a magnum similar to one of Cort's. He raised it and fired at the approaching Hunter, who had begun to swerve as soon as he'd seen the weapon come out. Jasper redirected himself and charged into the Maverick, forcing him against the wall and head butting him in the face. The enemy cried out in fury and curled his legs up to his chest, extending them out into Jasper's gut, driving him backwards. The Maverick raised his weapon again, but Jasper's cannon went up first, and the bolt of plasma drilled into the Maverick's chest armor, doing considerable damage. Grunting in pain, the Maverick dashed back away from Jasper, stopping in front of the window, and sending another round at the Hunter. This one was badly aimed, and missed. Jasper danced around the next few shots, charging his blaster all the while, until he stood where he'd stood when he'd dismissed Cort. The Maverick raised his revolver faster than Jasper raised his cannon, and grinned horribly as he pulled the trigger, already imagining the round tearing through the Hunter's head.  
  
There was a loud click, and nothing more.  
  
Jasper grinned as a look of horror flooded the Maverick's face: he was out of bullets. The Hunter fired his shot. The speeding flare of red plasma ripped clear through the Maverick, throwing his dying form backwards and shattering the window. The enemy plummeted down to the ground with the raining shards of glass, and while he wasn't dead before he hit the ground, it didn't take much longer than that.  
  
Jasper rushed over to the shaking conductor. He appeared to be all right, except for some scrapes, but he would be just fine. He left the room and greeted the anxious Cort and Seamus with a reassuring grin. Seconds later Lariat and the two others walked in, both flashing signs of victory.  
  
The Hunters had reclaimed the Steel Alley Station. 


	18. Blackstar Express

1 Chapter Seventeen: Blackstar Express  
  
The Hunters on board Blackstar 5041 weren't having any more fun than their comrades at the station. As soon as the seven Hunters started running down the cars, leaping over the gaps, advancing on the three Mavericks patrolling the roofs, both parties firing their weapons blindly, the two Mavericks who were actually in the train cars stuck their hands out and lobbed smoke grenades onto the roofs of their cars. The Mavericks were all spread out, so the Hunters needed to be able to aim, and the smoke hindered them greatly. There were enough Hunters, however, for the Mavericks to just shoot blindly and hit them.  
  
Indeed, the number of lasers slicing into Delates's armor was far too high. His armor was slowly failing, and soon his internal generator would start taking damage. He would be using his arm cannon, but the assault rifle provided a better spread of fire, so he stuck to that.  
  
Suddenly, one of the Maverick rear guards emerged from the smoke. Delates raised his weapon to fire but he was far too late. A forceful blast of plasma infused flames erupted from the Maverick's weapon, coating Delates with incredible heat. He screamed and fell back, and the Maverick retreated as Hunter gunfire followed him.  
  
His systems were screaming alarms, but Delates could do nothing. Tyclammel of his Unit pushed him down and helped smother the flames. Delates nodded and shakily got to his feet.  
  
Suddenly there was a lull in the shooting from both sides. No shots were fired, yet for some reason, a laser tore into Delates's stomach, spilling the Hunter off the top of the train. This here was why the Hunters had not brought any humans with them on this mission; had a human fallen from the train, they might have been sucked underneath it as it zoomed past. Being a Reploid, however, Delates just fell like a rock. The heavy weight of his armor ensured that the train didn't drag him underneath it and crush him.  
  
Getting slowly to his feet, Delates examined his wound. It was difficult to armor anyone's stomach, as it greatly reduced one's ability to bend or twist to look from side to side. The powerful laser that had hit him had ripped up the thin armor he used, and it had done a little damage to his internals, but he was still operating at a good power rate, and his generator wouldn't be going critical any time soon.  
  
That left him with the present question: where had that laser come from? No one on the train was shooting. He realized the answer at the exact same moment Zero did.  
  
"SNIPERS ON THE TRACKS!" Zero bellowed. "EVERYBODY DOWN!"  
  
The command was spoken not a moment too soon. Another laser whizzed past X's helmeted head, and would have hit him had the Hunter champion not already thrown himself flat on the car's roof.  
  
"This isn't going to work!" Feldspar of Unit 0 shouted over the din of the moving train and the Mavericks, who had resumed their fire. "There's too many of us up here!"  
  
No one answered, for greater dangers suddenly came at them. One of the Mavericks was using a gun that shot explosive ammo, and was spraying the area where the Hunters were laying. They frantically got to their feet, badly hurt, and all opened fire at once. X unleashed a fully charged blast of plasma, and the blazing blue fireball scattered the Mavericks. To their horror, though, the Mavericks in the cars threw up more smoke grenades, complicating vision once more.  
  
And finally came the terror from the skies. A Parasitic Bomb latched onto Tyclammel, and the Hunter fell back to his knees as the paralysis took him. Cursing loudly, Feldspar tried to rush over and help, but the Maverick with the flamethrower was at it again. Feldspar raised his weapon to deal with the threat, and Tyclammel began to have his life sapped out of him.  
  
Vulcan darted to his side, slashing the tip of his lightsaber across the large, flat device, splitting it and making it rather useless. The weakened Tyclammel ripped the two parts out of his torso and looked up at his savior.  
  
"Good work, kid. Now go get the bastards for me. I'm just taking up space, now…" If Vulcan wanted to protest, Tyclammel never gave him time, and leapt off the train. He rolled to his feet as another Parasitic Bomb slammed into the ground where he'd landed, and took off in the opposite direction of the train, presumably to recover Delates.  
  
Even as Vulcan had been aiding his comrade, other dangers had arrived. Little cybernetic bees, vassals of Blast Hornet, had swarmed the train, and were stabbing at the Hunters with their acid tipped stingers. They had a lot of work to do.  
  
But one thing at a time, Mega Man X thought to himself as his familiar blue coloration faded to be replaced with a green and white combination. When he defeated a Maverick Boss, X had the capability of absorbing the enemy's weapon data and copying one of their attacks. All of the data from X's many victims was stored in a database back at Hunter HQ, since his systems could only hold eight enemy programs at one time. As it stood, X had never changed the programs from the last eight Mavericks he had conquered, and so had the weapons of the Mavericks from the Repliforce War. He had just loaded the program for the Double Cyclone, a weapon taken from Storm Owl, and was now charging it to full power. When that was done, he pointed both of his arms in front of him and opened the palms of his hands. Green energies traced a path down his arms and once in his hands they exploded outward in the form of plasma laced cyclones that traveled horizontally down the train. The two of them next to each other covered the whole area, and shredded one of the Mavericks and sent another over the edge, though he clung tightly to the roof and managed to hoist himself back up. The third Maverick from further back on the train ran forward, his assault rifle blazing, but the Maverick defenses had just been broken.  
  
Zero rushed forward into the aftermath of the cyclones, his saber swinging wildly. He slashed clear through the Maverick who'd just struggled back onto the train and kicked his halves off the edge, just as more smoke bombs came up.  
  
At this point, Blast Hornet could no longer hide in the clouds. He dove down like a bat out of hell, more bee drones leaving from the storage compartment inside his abdomen, and Parasitic Bombs springing from his blaster. The Hunters themselves scattered as the bees attacked with full force. Many shot at Blast Hornet, but the nimble soldier just kept flitting around like a hummingbird, using his airborne superiority to get the better of them all.  
  
X's coloration switched again, this time to a dark purple, and he glared up at the flying Maverick. Blast Hornet was weak against the Gravity Well, a weapon used by Gravity Beetle, but since the Gravity Well was not currently in his databanks, X had to make do with something that he hoped would be just as effective. It was hard to aim at the hornet, so why should X waste his energy trying to do it himself when he had a weapon that would do it for him?  
  
A target visible only to X appeared around Blast Hornet, who fixed X with a cold gaze and fired a Parasitic Bomb directly at him. X jumped to the side, just narrowly missing the projectile, and seconds later the Aiming Laser locked on. X unleashed Cyber Peacock's weapon, a wide beam of energies that struck Blast Hornet dead on. The beam didn't last long, but it had still damaged the Hornet, who now knew he was in serious danger. He tried to fire more Parasitic Bombs, but blasts from Vulcan distracted him, and X was able to lock on again and send another Aiming Laser at the Maverick. Furiously, Blast Hornet zoomed towards X, a final horde of bees swarming the blue Hunter and stabbing him viciously with their venomous stingers. X cried out, and Blast Hornet hovered close to him, extending his cannon to fire the fatal Parasitic Bomb.  
  
Zero charged at the hornet, holding his sword limp at his side. Tendrils of red energy coursed down Zero's fist and lined the blade, soon exploding into plasma laced fire, and with a cry of "Ryuenjin!" the crimson Hunter activated his leg boosters and brought the Rising Fire Sword up into Blast Hornet, melting through his armor and doing serious damage. The Maverick gave what passed as a scream and tried to back away, but Zero did not fall back down to the train; he latched on to Blast Hornet's spindly legs. For indeed, if Zero had fallen he may well have fallen several cars back since the train was speeding under him. In no time at all the train itself was gone, and Zero had kept the hornet away from it. Refusing to let go, even though Blast was calling his bee drones to aid him, Zero tried to steer the hornet back towards the station, back towards the fallen Hunters, and maybe back to the railroad snipers before they picked off the wounded.  
  
Delates had encountered the sniper just as he was boarding his hovercycle to speed off after Blackstar 5041. The Hunter had charged after the Maverick with a furious cry that startled the enemy and caused him to swerve the bike around to see his challenger. The fact that Delates was wounded hadn't made a difference to the Maverick, and he viewed the Hunter as a threat. He raised his rifle and had snapped off a few rounds at Delates, who'd jumped to the side while firing a charged bolt of plasma that had unseated the Maverick from his hovercycle, which then went off towards the railroad tracks. Delates had sprinted faster than ever before in his life and caught the hovercycle, spinning it around to chase the Maverick, who was running up the tracks after Blackstar 5041. Delates had fired a few more shots at the Maverick's back, not intending to kill him, but to stun him and save him for questioning. To the dumb Maverick's misfortune, however, he had stumbled and one of Delates's blasts had caught him in the head, melting his control chip.  
  
Now, Delates sped ahead after the fast moving train, and it wasn't long before he encountered two other combatants: Tyclammel and another sniper, who was also on a hovercycle.  
  
"Hop on!" Delates had cried to Tyclammel while he kept the Maverick busy with plasma blasts. Tyclammel had done just that, and the Maverick had turned around and sped off as fast as he could. The Hunters pursued him, though they were slower due to the added weight of Tyclammel, but they never lost him in their sights and continued to fire shots after him, though he avoided most of them.  
  
Then, two more snipers on hovercycles appeared, and the three Mavericks spun around and came at the Hunters, who were suddenly very unhappy with their odds.  
  
"Keep going forward," Tyclammel said, "and veer to the right when I tell you to." Delates nodded and kept going forward, firing as the Mavericks fired. They were getting closer, and the Mavericks would soon be able to hit them without a problem, but Tyclammel never gave his command. Finally, when Delates had gotten afraid that Tyclammel was planning to play chicken with the Mavericks, the Reploid barked an order and Delates swerved the hovercycle to the right. Near the end of the turn Tyclammel sprang off the cycle towards the left. The Mavericks had already started to turn to follow Delates, and could do nothing about Tyclammel, who raised his arm cannon at one of the riders. Tyclammel's cannon resembled a Gatlin gun; only the barrels fired small, heat-seeking missiles instead of bullets. It was a barrel in the dead center of the cannon that fired the shots, rapid- fire plasma bullets that packed quite a punch. Tyclammel roared and shot four missiles that homed in on the Maverick rider. One exploded into his armor, doing minimal damage, but the three others hit his bike, igniting the fuel generator and creating an explosion that destroyed the hovercycle and threw the Maverick off of it. Tyclammel opened fire with his machine gun, and the Maverick did the same.  
  
Delates had been forced to put in some major evasive actions, and actually found himself turning into one of the Mavericks, jamming the hovercycles into each other and scaring the hell out of the Maverick. Delates used the opportunity to press his cannon to the Maverick's chest and blow a hole through him, dropping him off the bike and sending it roaring off towards Tyclammel. The wounded Maverick Tyclammel was harassing leapt onto the bike and sped off after the train, followed by his comrade. They'd lost one bike and one soldier, and they weren't going to push their luck. Delates had to pick up Tyclammel, and that gave the Mavericks a major head start, but they kept on going anyway, never letting the bastards out of their sight.  
  
Zero continued to beat wearily on Blast Hornet's torso, firmly grasping the cannon the hymenopteran was trying to press against his head. The Maverick's drones were stinging Zero repeatedly, and agony was coursing through the Hunter's body, but he had to hold on just a little longer, because he could hear Blackstar 5041 getting further ahead, and he knew that if he kept Blast Hornet away from it long enough, X could complete the mission.  
  
He glared with loathing at Blast Hornet, and activated one of his Sub- Tanks, rare devices that were charged with energy to replenish the generator health of a Reploid. A warm feeling filled his body, and energy returned to his limbs, though the pain was no less horrible. The acid from the bees was doing a number on him. Maybe it was time to give the Maverick a taste of his own medicine…  
  
"Release me, Hunter," the Maverick said in his emotionless drone of a voice. "It is pointless to resist. The mission will go in our favor."  
  
"Not if you're stuck here!" Zero hissed, reaching out suddenly and grabbing one of the annoying bees. He held it so its stinger was facing out and jammed it as hard as he could into Blast Hornet's unarmored side. The Maverick gave a loud, choking scream that sent a shudder through Zero's body, and began to flail about as the acid ran its course. Still gripping his saber tightly with the same hand that held onto Blast's arm cannon, Zero grabbed another bee and stuck it into its master's other side, taking great relish in it.  
  
Blast Hornet was such a hated enemy. He had at one point been Zero's most trusted lieutenant. During the days of Dr. Doppler's faux peace, the Lord of Doppler Town had called eight Reploids together, representatives from all around the world. Zero had been unable to attend, as he had only recently been reactivated by the X-Hunters, and was trying to get his skills back up to par. Blast Hornet, the Second in Command of Unit 0, had gone instead. At this meeting, Doppler had first laid out his plans to spread the Doppler Town utopia to other parts of the world by force. Had Zero been there, he would have realized Doppler's true intentions immediately, but Blast Hornet had chosen to ignore the danger to the world and accept Doppler's invitation, deciding that if he had enough power, he could help spread the peace of Doppler Town to the rest of the world. It was a very idealistic goal, and Zero might not have hated the traitorous Maverick so much if that had been the only motive, but in the end Blast had become so interested in gaining power that he'd forgotten the reason he'd wanted it in the first place. Nervous about contending with someone more powerful than he, Dr. Doppler had infected Blast Hornet with the Sigma Virus, turning him into another helpless puppet commanded by the Reploid tyrant.  
  
X had destroyed Blast Hornet the first time, and now Zero had his chance to give the traitor what he deserved. He would not lose to this creature.  
  
Suddenly, the roar of hovercycles filled his ears. Zero looked down and saw unfamiliar Reploids driving them; they were Mavericks. Grinning evilly, Zero forcibly guided the writhing Blast Hornet towards the approaching Mavericks and then, drawing a deep breath, he let go.  
  
"Shippuga," he whispered as he leaned forward, allowing the special attack to take hold of his systems and spin him in a somersault as his saber blade glowed with a golden light and sliced through Blast Hornet like the spinning blade of death it was. The hornet recoiled sharply away from the Hunter, clutching his wounds and making strange moaning sounds.  
  
Zero was falling now, falling right towards one of the approaching Maverick bikers, who gave a cry of surprise that would do him no good.  
  
"Hyoretszuan!" Icy blue energies coiled around Zero's saber, which was pointed downwards, and formed into a giant icicle which encased the sword completely. Zero fell into the Maverick and the Ice Lance smashed through the enemy's body and obliterated the hovercycle, which exploded violently just as Zero pushed himself away from it. The other Maverick didn't even stop, and just got out of there as fast as he could.  
  
Zero laughed aloud as he got shakily to his feet. He was not going to hold out much longer, and so he was unhappy when he heard the buzzing of approaching bee drones. Sure enough, there they were, all of them, diving at him with stingers extended. Angry, tired, and having satisfied his need for fancy artistic victories for the night, Zero simply swung his sword out in front of him in a wide arc, destroying the first of the army of onrushing bees.  
  
"Leave…" A swing, the explosion of plasma striking metal. "Me…." Another swipe, the sound of dead little bug bodies hitting the ground. "The hell…" Yet another swing, and the sounds of many, many dead little bug bodies hitting the ground. "ALONE!" A grand final arc of his sword and the vast majority of Blast Hornet's drones lay dead on the ground, and those that remained scurried up towards their master. The Maverick appeared more than a little frustrated, and fired a Parasitic Bomb that Zero easily dodged, but more and more came, and as Zero grew more exhausted, his speed decreased, and the calls became closer.  
  
Then came the sound of another hovercycle approaching. Zero spun around, prepared to attack, but Delates's voice stopped him.  
  
"Need some help, sir?"  
  
Zero laughed again, running towards the bike. "Get him!"  
  
Blast Hornet sent what remained of his drone army after Delates and Tyclammel, who easily evaded them on their speedy transport, circling the Maverick and pelting him with shot after shot. Zero rushed underneath the Maverick, planning to unleash another Rising Fire Sword attack, when the enemy made that option impossible.  
  
His generator was seconds away from going critical, and Blast Hornet locked onto Zero as a final target. He snapped his body straight and pointed his long, deadly stinger straight at Zero's heart. Then he dove, spinning like a drill, making a beeline, for lack of better term, for the Hunter to strike the blow that would fell the mighty Zero once and for all.  
  
Zero ignored the shouts of Delates and Tyclammel and allowed the Maverick to get even closer. Then he drew on the absolute last of his special weapon power, gathering a gigantic ball of energies to his fist. He glared up at the Maverick, the traitor who'd betrayed Zero's trust so severely all those years ago.  
  
"RAKKOUHA!" Zero shouted, slamming his fist into the ground, which erupted into a spray of dirt and earth as wide white lasers exploded from the curtain of energies that now surrounded Zero. The huge blasts flew in all directions, and would have been a hazard for the bikers had not Blast Hornet been almost on top of Zero. The Maverick received the full brunt of all the lasers, and went up in flames immediately. His body skidded across the ground once before exploding in a firestorm of scrap and burning coolant.  
  
"Shit, boss!" Delates laughed as he pulled up next to his panting commander. "Can you just not resist overkill?"  
  
"Overkill's FUN!" Tyclammel laughed as he slapped Zero on the back and dismounted. "You get on, sir, you're hurt. I can still run, and you guys gotta follow those Mavericks wherever they're going. I'll be along shortly!"  
  
Zero nodded and patted Tyclammel on the shoulder in turn, hopping on the bike. "Now I do hope X wasn't just playing diddly with his navel all this time. Blackstar 5041 oughta be stopped by now…"  
  
Rewinding back to the point just after Zero and Blast Hornet vanished, we can clearly see that X was not slacking, but neither was he making progress. The Maverick train was getting closer and closer to its destination, and the Mavericks in the cars kept throwing smoke grenades up on the roof. The final Maverick roof guard was doing a good job of keeping X, Feldspar, Vulcan, and Scylla at bay. Even he, though, was now wounded, and the Hunters were about to take the engine, ending the midnight ride of Blackstar 5041.  
  
Suddenly, the last of the Maverick snipers—who happened to be named Diavus...—sent a laser flying into Scylla's side that spun her around, destroyed her balance, and made her an easy target for the wounded Maverick guard. She fell off the train nursing several blaster wounds, but not at the moment in danger of dying, unless Diavus found her first.  
  
Furious, X brought his heavy, booted foot up into the Maverick's chest, spilling him on the ground. He stomped hard on the Maverick's head, turning out his lights, and prepared to jump over the final gap between train cars that would place him atop the conductor's cabin.  
  
Then, a blur of blue and silver snapped up from the cabin, and on the edges of the blur were bright red energy beams that seemed to dance with the figure as it flipped out of the cabin and onto the train in an extremely complicated feat of aero-acrobatics, but before the Hunters had a time to marvel, the figure thrust its arm out and the red electricity sprang from its fingers, hitting X square in the chest.  
  
The champion Hunter gave a sudden yelp as the electricity spread through him, and he staggered and fell, barely aware through the pain being caused by the voltage that a very furious battle had just started.  
  
The second the blur had become something stationary, Vulcan had done what many soldiers did: summed up an enemy. Just by looking for a second, tons of information was gathered at once. Anyone could do it, but only a good warrior could then decide how to best implement that information.  
  
It was a female Maverick with long, raven-black hair and a lithe frame. She was pretty, but the feral look in her eyes would have scared Vulcan off had he met her under more normal circumstances. Her only armor was a thick silver chest plate that covered her bosom and protected her generator. Smallish silver gauntlets adorned her wrists and her boots were not nearly as wide or large as any of the Hunters'. The rest of her was a light blue colored "suit"; that thick, rubbery casing that protected a Reploid's skin and internals that all the Hunters wore underneath their armor. It served to offer some protection to areas that were difficult to armor, such as the stomach or lower back, and forearms and forelegs. She carried a lightsaber, but it didn't look at all like the one Vulcan or even Zero carried. This one had a longer, golden hilt adorned with what looked like carvings of flames. The blade itself was not the straight rod so commonly associated with lightsabers, but instead it looked more like a curved scimitar, very wide, and probably very deadly. As far as her capabilities, it looked as though she was extremely fast and agile, which probably explained the lack of armor. All this he gathered in a second, and held his saber at the ready.  
  
For her part, Teytha had already summed up all three of her opponents, and was only worried about the one who was currently fighting off her electrical surge. She sprang into action, flying at Vulcan and slashing her sword in a hard upward arc. The Hunter met the attack with his own saber, and the two bodies of energies flared violently for the brief second that they touched. Teytha struck low, and then high, and then high again, and Vulcan parried each blow, much to her surprise. However Vulcan was still a rookie, and only knew one way to handle this woman. By memorizing her attack pattern, he could figure out when to strike and what to strike with. Teytha realized this instantly and had to laugh, for her attacks absolutely never fell in a set pattern. She struck low and then spun around with lightning speed, sticking her foot back and kicking Vulcan in the stomach, sending the Hunter staggering backwards to the edge of the train. He fought hard to keep his balance, knowing that if he fell, the Hunters would lose their number advantage. He flailed his arms and, by some miracle, managed to stay atop the train.  
  
The sight that greeted him was none too pleasant. Feldspar was bleeding heavily. He used a blaster, and since they were fighting at close range, with the Maverick using relentless sword attacks, Feldspar was quite outmatched. He kept trying to put distance between himself and the Maverick, but each time she caught up with him and went back to work on him, her sword singing as it cut through his armor like a knife passing through butter.  
  
This wasn't going to work. The Maverick wasn't using any fancy techniques; she was just slashing rapidly and unpredictably. They needed a much larger arena to defeat her, and this place just wasn't wide enough. He had no room to maneuver. But still, he stood a better chance than Feldspar did. He charged at the Maverick again, going over his attacks in his head.  
  
Teytha sensed him coming and spun to meet him, connecting her sword with his, parrying every blow he tried to strike, while striking some of her own. She was just too fast. There was no way he had the skill or experience to know how to handle her attacks, though finally, the train began a sharp turn to the right and her defenses fell just for a second. Vulcan struck, slashing his sword out at her stomach…and miraculously she parried that, too. But only just barely, and the worry that flashed through her eyes was something that gave Vulcan renewed hope. It didn't last long, though, because she jumped back just as Feldspar was about to attack her and kicked him hard in the chest. She flung her outstretched hand out towards Vulcan, and from it sprang another spark of red energies that hit him dead on.  
  
Vulcan screamed, dropping to his knees and using his sword as a crutch. The pain was very severe, and it felt as if his generator was rupturing. It wasn't, but the electric surge did dangerously deplete his energy. His internal surge protectors couldn't withstand too many attacks like those.  
  
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he looked up just in time to see the Maverick raising her scimitar to bring it down and decapitate him. She would have succeeded, too, but then there came an angry cry from right of the combatants. Mega Man X fired a single shot that struck Teytha in the chest. It wasn't even charged, but it had caught the Maverick totally by surprise. She staggered back, and soon found herself teetering on the edge of the car, just by the gap between the two transports, where they were connected by steel cables, and below that was the tracks, which would mean certain death as the train crushed her body. She flailed her arms as Vulcan had done, and almost succeeded, but then the train made another sharp turn and her balance was ruined.  
  
Teytha gave a cry of alarm and fell backwards, futilely stretching her arm out for something to hang on to. Then she disappeared into the gap and was gone.  
  
All the Hunters cringed; regardless of which side you fought on, that was a terrible way to die. X got to his feet and his two wounded underlings clustered near him, trying to figure out what to do now that all threats had been neutralized.  
  
Then they were rudely reminded that all the threats had not been neutralized. The cargo doors slid open and huge boxes were forced out of them, bouncing perilously on the ground away from the track. More and more boxes were forced out by the two Mavericks still remaining on Blackstar 5041.  
  
"I'm stopping this train!" X shouted, and prepared to leap over the gap that had claimed Teytha and access the controls in the cabin. However, his efforts were rudely interrupted when the final Maverick guard—the one X had kicked unconscious—regained thinking ability and wrapped his arms around X's right leg, spoiling his dash and spilling him on the hard roof of the car. Feldspar snarled and shot the Maverick in the head, ending his resistance, but X was very dazed by the impact his head had made with the roof.  
  
Knowing what he had to do, Vulcan leapt across the gap. He would take care of the controls himself, and reverse the train. The moon barely peeked out of the midnight blue clouds, and the dark blue light reflected off Vulcan's silver armor.  
  
At that moment he looked almost exactly like Mega Man X, at least to someone watching from underneath.  
  
And indeed someone was. A whirling blur of silver and blue sprang up from the gap and shredded Vulcan in mid air. His mangled form fell onto the roof of the engineer's cabin. Blood leaked from his many saber wounds, and he choked out a delayed cry of surprise rather than pain. Then realization dawned on him, and he felt a little better. Teytha had been waiting down there to kill X. She'd heard X say he was going, and then she'd attacked the form that came over the gap. Even if he died here, he knew, he'd died saving the life of the Hunter's greatest commander.  
  
Teytha gasped at the form laying in front of her, very surprised that it was not X. In fact, X and Feldspar were glaring at her from across the gap with very vicious looks. Noting that the last of the cargo had been spilled, Teytha snapped a mock salute at them and leapt off of the train, sprinting at her demon speed towards the carts and helping the Mavericks carry them off.  
  
"Get Vulcan off this train!" X roared as he leapt off, activating his dash boots and flying after the Maverick leader. Feldspar leapt the gap and scooped Vulcan up in his arms and tossed him unceremoniously over the edge of the train, because frankly, he had no other options. He had to stop this train, or it would crash into the next station. Feldspar swung into the cabin and activated the proper controls. He bailed out, rushing to collect Vulcan, who was in bad shape, but he looked surprisingly alive.  
  
"You won't be dying for a long time, you lucky bastard," Feldspar said, patting the shuddering rookie on the shoulder. "We'll get you out of here. Settle down. Come on, breathe. Easy, now… You know, you did pretty good back there, for a rookie." Vulcan's body just continued to shudder as his autorepair systems tried to shut off the flow of blood to his wounds, but he tilted his head slightly towards Feldspar so he knew he was listening. Feldspar drew a sharp intake of breath, remembering what it was like to be young and inexperienced. The guy was scared, and rightly so, because he'd never been in a position where death was imminent. If he survived this, he'd be worlds better as a Hunter. It was his job to make sure Vulcan made it, though. After all… "I dare say you saved my life, Vulcan. That chick would have made mincemeat outta me if you hadn't given her something else to worry about. And you saved X's butt, too. We Hunters don't forget who we owe, got it? We won't forget this. Now you just hang in there so I can buy you a beer, dammit."  
  
Vulcan laughed, albeit painfully. Even if he could have managed to say anything, he wouldn't have had any idea what to say.  
  
X fired frantic rounds at the Mavericks. In the distance he could hear approaching hovercycles, and that worried him, because if the Mavericks had reinforcements, this could just become even more difficult. However, X had single handedly flattened Maverick platoons on many occasions, and would do it again if he had to. Even if his opponent was the Queen of Swordplay.  
  
He was reassured, however, by the arrival of Scylla. She sprinted towards him, firing at the Mavericks, who fired back, but no one hit. She was badly wounded, X saw, and he didn't want to risk her at the moment.  
  
"Feldspar and Vulcan are back there," X explained hastily. "Vulcan's badly wounded, and Feldspar's hurting, too. Help them get a mile to the south. The area there is fit for a jet to land, and I've already radioed HQ for backup. The air force is gonna lend us a hand."  
  
Scylla nodded and rushed off in the direction X pointed her in. The Azure Hunter drew another long breath and started after the Mavericks, again activating his Aiming Laser. He locked onto them individually and fired, destroying one of the crates they were hauling.  
  
Apparently this was a deadly sin, because the woman leading the Mavericks began to sprint towards X, her scimitar at the ready, as well as…  
  
Oh, no. Bloody hell, no. She had TWO lightsabers.  
  
Teytha danced around in random directions, springing like a crouching cat away from each area X directed a bolt of plasma towards. Even the Aiming Laser couldn't lock onto her in time. He grunted and switched to the Lightning Web. He'd stop this one in her tracks, one way or another. He charged the weapon and waited for her to get close. She expected something, and didn't want to close in, and instead threw her bolts of red electricity at the Hunter, hoping to freeze him in his tracks long enough for her to close in.  
  
Suddenly X had a novel idea. He switched to the Ground Hunter, a gift from Jet Stingray, and dashed around, firing little balls of energy that took the form of mini stingrays, gliding around the ground like heat seekers towards Teytha. She was forced to resume her dancing act, hopping from place to place, avoiding both Ground Hunters and normal plasma, and none of her few electric surges were hitting. X saw realization flash on her face. She knew that X would destroy her in time, as he'd done so many others, and then he'd destroy the other Mavericks she had with her. Their cargo would be confiscated, and whatever operation was so important to her would be foiled. The hoverbikes approached, but there was only one Maverick voice, and the others belonged to Zero and Delates. With both X and Zero in the same area, Teytha knew she was licked.  
  
And then, the most amazing thing happened.  
  
The clouds parted and a jet sped out of it, a jet colored as black as the night it sliced through. The jet was small, and resembled the one-seater Ravens the Hunters had in their air force. For a minute X wore a look of elation, thinking that reinforcements had finally arrived, but the jet's next action shattered that belief entirely.  
  
The aircraft slowed in velocity and lowered so it was near the ground. The machine guns mounted under its wings did not fire, but it zoomed at the Hunters and they ducked, the sonic boom deafening and startling them. Teytha sprinted away, not knowing who her benefactor was and not caring. The jet came again, speeding past the Hunters, and spilling Delates and Zero—who were both wounded, to X's dismay—off their hovercycle. The other Maverick sped off to help Teytha and the others, while X shook his fist in fury at the newcomer.  
  
"There's no Maverick insignia!" Delates shouted. "It's definitely not one of ours, either!"  
  
"Then who is it?!" X shouted at thin air, furious at losing his quarry when he had them at his mercy. "WHO'S THE JACKASS?"  
  
"YEE-HAAAA!" Dynamo hadn't had this much fun in weeks.  
  
Ever since Greenback's visit to the pub, Dynamo had been keenly interested in whatever the little Maverick was planning. It seemed that if Greenback's people succeeded, there would be quite an interesting series of events that followed. Probably, these events would lead to serious combat. Dynamo lived for combat. Besides, it was so boring sitting around and waiting for the two factions to piss each other off. Things moved so much faster when he served up a catalyst for the violence.  
  
He'd taken his personal jet, Splicer, from its hidden hangar in the Catskills and set it to stealth mode. He'd hidden in the clouds and followed Blackstar 5041 ever since it left Cartwright's station. He'd spun the jet around to watch Zero battle Blast Hornet. What a show! That guy knew what he was doing. He had skills, he had endurance, he had speed, and he was CLEVER.  
  
"Now that," Dynamo mused, "is a Reploid worth challenging. Now I know why Magma Dragoon chose his path…" During the Repliforce War, Magma Dragoon had joined Sigma and destroyed the Sky Lagoon, the incident for which Repliforce was blamed. Magma had done it just so he could have a deathmatch against Zero, who he'd always dreamed of fighting. Combat had been everything to Magma, too.  
  
Dynamo glanced down and saw X jumping up and down and screaming at him. He threw back his head and laughed. "And you, X, need to get that bug out of your butt. Let me help you." He angled Splicer down towards the frantic Hunter, who promptly got the hell out of there. Dynamo pulled up and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw what he'd been waiting to see.  
  
Mobile artillery drones. Lots of them. The Maverick reinforcements had arrived.  
  
He chuckled to himself and pulled up, flying away from the battlefield where the furious Hunters were trying to regroup. By now the Mavericks would have all their cargo accounted for, and Greenback's plan could be put in motion.  
  
Until then, Dynamo would have to settle with taking missions for the Gold Serpent for amusement.  
  
X, Zero, Tyclammel, and Delates were the only four who could really fight, and Zero wouldn't last long at all. They had to stop the Mavericks here, or it was all over.  
  
But it was already all over. Even as the four Hunters began their mad dash towards the clearing where the Mavericks would teleport to Seraph Castle, explosions erupted around them as mortar shells fell from the sky, shot by large mobile turrets from high along the mountain path. They halted immediately, knowing it was futile to return fire but doing so anyway. X locked onto the individual cannons with his Aiming Laser, but the blasts were not powerful enough to do the job alone.  
  
Zero breathed a curse as he saw the fresh Maverick troops rushing down from the mountain path, and even growled as he saw in the distance the female commander firmly embrace a male Reploid, this one tall and armored in black. Even at this distance Zero recognized the man Mortar had called Malevex, and tremors of anger shook his body. Even with what he now knew about Malevex's past, the fact that the Maverick was now standing among Zero's enemies and gloating over their victory didn't make it any easier for Zero to forgive him.  
  
"What do you have in store for us now, Terrornova…" he breathed. X glanced towards him curiously, but before he could ask anything the mortar shells exploded around them once more and they all took off for the clearing where the air force was supposed to pick them up. X hoped they were fast, since the Mavericks now easily outnumbered the Hunters, and if they decided to swarm over the area and pick the Hunters off, there'd be little resistance for them. Luckily, the Hunter Transport, which was a small passenger jet, split the sky much in the same manner as Dynamo's Splicer had done, and landed in the clearing a mile behind the railroad tracks, where Blackstar 5041 sat idle. The wounded were loaded into the jet and another touched down shortly after, this one piloted by Vulcan's pal Alec Tremont, who tended to show up whenever it would be ironic. He'd cramped a technician into his Raven, and the technician went out and headed to Blackstar 5041 to take it to a station. Lariat of Unit 17, who had come with the rest of his group after reinforcements had arrived to guard Cartwright's station and take the hostages and captives, went with the technician to provide security.  
  
"I'm afraid that our only surviving Maverick wasn't so eager to talk," Jasper said solemnly to X. "He activated his self destruct function. Shadin, Lyon, and Gralia of Zegmann's unit barely escaped the blast with their lives, though all are hurt."  
  
"This is a bad night," X said simply. "Can we just go home…?"  
  
"Three of my fellow snipers are dead," Diavus said stiffly, staring emotionlessly at Malevex, "and the rest are accounted for."  
  
"Damn," Teytha breathed, at Malevex's side. "They got one of my ten when the battle started. Five of us stayed on the train. Four remained at the station to divide the Hunters. I imagine they're all dead… Zero knocked Blast Hornet off the train, and I'd imagine the little bastard killed our bee. And of the five that boarded the train…" She waved her arms to take in the two Mavericks who were helping with the cargo. "Only they survived."  
  
"And we killed no Hunters…" Malevex said with a frown. "It hardly seems fair… Is there any word as to who our mysterious benefactor is?"  
  
"No," replied Teytha, frowning in turn. "Whoever it was just flew up out of nowhere. He bought us the time we needed for you to get down here. It's a good thing you were waiting there, or X would have killed us all."  
  
"It was your plan, remember. You set all this up." He smiled as easily as he could at both his close friend and his prized sniper. "You did what you set out to do. You got us the cargo, and now we can begin the final stage of the plan Sigma laid out for us. He may be dead, but…" He looked exclusively at Diavus. "Tell your friends that if they keep fighting like they do, if they keep giving it their all like this, there's no way Sigma's plan will fail. Now get outta here, you all must be dead tired."  
  
Diavus felt himself smiling slightly as well. He was always strangely at ease among his commanders, even when he had bad news to report. He gave Teytha and Malevex a quick salute and went off to help the others with the remaining cargo. Already the Maverick artillery was retreating back up the mountain towards Seraph Castle, and the traces of the battle were being removed.  
  
"And now it gets serious…" Teytha breathed, crossing her arms over her chest and taking fuller breaths.  
  
Malevex raised an eyebrow. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah…almost got crushed under the train, but nothing major." She flashed him a grin, twirling the hilt of her scimitar sword in her hands. "You're not the only one around here worth their salt with a sword, you know." As the sensations of battle drained from her, the feral glint left her eyes and was replaced with a warmer, mischievous look she saved for when she was around friends. "Though it is a damn good thing you were punctual. I don't know how much longer that jet could have held off the Hunters."  
  
Malevex grinned slowly, staring back at the train, which was now starting up again, presumably under Hunter control. "Couldn't let those losers have their way again, could I? The Hunters have way too many successes. They could use some failures, just to remind them that they're not godlike. Now come on, Gredam and Mortar are dying to find out what happened."  
  
She nodded and walked with him back to the rocky trail, glancing one last time back towards Steel Alley. "This is really it, then?"  
  
"Mhm." He looked in the same direction, and then back to her. "Few more weeks, and we'll be ready to move, at last. The humans will never know what hit them." 


	19. Old Wounds

1 Chapter Eighteen: Old Wounds  
  
When Commander Sigma of the Maverick Hunters betrayed his allies and became the leader of the enemy army, he took all eight members of his elite team with him aboard Death Rogumer, the huge airship belonging to Storm Eagle. As they left Maverick Hunter Headquarters behind them, they deployed a squadron of their Mechaniloid drone forces to slow down the Hunters pursuing their ship. On the way they also used Death Rogumer's cannons to raze several city sectors before Mega Man X finally caught them on the Megacity highways.  
  
One area Sigma's first army flattened was the Chancellor District, a middle to high class neighborhood with fairly large homes, apartments, and other buildings. While the remaining inhabitants were evacuated, the majority of the buildings remained intact. Two weeks after Sigma's War officially began, the Chancellor District was already a ghost town, and neither army paid it much attention. The remaining Hunters, who were scrambling to defeat Sigma's eight vassals and find the enemy fortress, didn't think any Mavericks would bother to inhabit the shaky Chancellor District. The Mavericks, who were too busy worrying about their own survival, could care less about a deserted cluster of building, at least for the moment.  
  
That was why it was the perfect road if you wanted to arrive in Light's Point without being noticed.  
  
Light's Point, a small, peaceful wharf named after the famous scientist of earlier times, was where you could find private vessels to head out to the chain of rivers flowing through the Catskills, and eventually to the open sea. It had been virtually untouched in these first few weeks of Sigma's ambitious campaign, even though it was dangerously close to the larger bay where Launch Octopus was rumored to be setting up shop.  
  
It was easy to sneak away from Megacity 5 quietly by passing through Light's Point, and so it was a nice place for fugitives. But to get there, you either had to travel down the main Megacity Highway, which was quite ruined and under heavy guard, or pass through a sub district. And, of course, the best choice of a sub district for fugitives who would rather not be seen was through the Chancellor District. The shortest path between two points is a straight line, and fortunately you could travel straight from south to north through the Chancellor District to arrive at Light's Point. Haste was needed for fugitives, of course.  
  
A helmeted head poked out from behind the weak remains of an old apartment building on the south side of the Chancellor District. After making damn sure the coast was clear, the figure waved his hand sharply and darted out from behind his cover, headed for an alley. Four others followed him, all of them Reploids. The leader, a tall, stocky man in thick armor colored green and brown in a camouflage design, reached the alley first and pressed himself against the back stone wall of an abandoned apartment, waiting for his comrades. The first to arrive was the speediest of the lot, a lithe girl in a blue protective suit and brilliant silver gauntlets that reached up to her elbows. Thin armor of the same color covered her chest and stomach, and her dark hair flapped behind her as she shot into the alley, standing close to her comrade and looking around them frantically. Soon after was a man in very black armor with gold trimmings and a light purple protective suit underneath the armor. He passed up both his companions and halted further down the alley, checking the area ahead. A shorter Reploid in teal colored generic armor, as well as a notably large buster cannon joined him and they signaled that nothing was watching, though they'd still better hurry.  
  
The last to arrive was a shorter man in reddish, generic armor. He had a short, dark beard and hair of the same color that trailed over his grizzled and wizened face. He turned to the camouflaged Reploid as they began their sprint once more.  
  
"Are you sure we can't just bolt through here, Gredam?"  
  
"Perhaps we could, Mortar," the leader replied as they came to another stop, glancing briefly around them before continuing on at their relentless pace. "But I'm frankly surprised to hear that out of your mouth, of us all. Thornton will have this place watched. Zero and Sigma may be too busy throwing their armies at each other to bother with this place, but Thornton isn't stupid. He knows this is the ideal spot. Snipers could be anywhere."  
  
"Yes, yes…" Mortar stopped, pivoting sharply to check behind him and to his sides, acting on an instinct. Something was watching him, all right, but it was merely a startled feline that darted off soon afterwards. "Still, the demon is behind us, you know. We didn't have much of a lead when we bolted from Times Square."  
  
"If that bastard leads his troops up behind us, we'll know. That's what our own sniper is for."  
  
"You think Saybir had any trouble getting to his nest?"  
  
"He won't fail," Gredam said simply, and Mortar, satisfied with Gredam's responses, fell quiet. They caught up to the faster Reploids and the one in black armor fell back, speaking quietly next to Gredam.  
  
"Saybir's nest is a mile up," he said, not showing any sign of weariness from his long run.  
  
"That's not what you're worried about," Gredam replied simply.  
  
"Of course not. It's the bastard breathing down our neck. Grate's picking up nothing ahead on his radar, but the Mechaniloid hounds are closing fast."  
  
"Come on, Malevex," Gredam replied, glancing down at his best friend, "don't worry about him. We've only got two miles till Light's Point. We'll have the advantage there."  
  
"Tell me you have something planned in case we get ambushed?" Malevex pressed, wearily.  
  
"You're the strategist," Gredam replied as they checked themselves again, starting down the final alley before a rather open road, "what do you say?"  
  
"First of all," said a new voice as the teal Reploid fell back to run with Malevex and Gredam, "it's not if we get ambushed, it's when. I'm picking up the Traitor's forces coming up like wildfire behind us."  
  
"Damn it, Grate," Mortar barked from ahead, "can't you give any good news for once?"  
  
"The truth hurts," Grate replied simply, double checking his extremely powerful internal radar. "Mostly Mechaniloids, Gredam, but our dearest friend's definitely leading them."  
  
They came to a halt before a long stretch of destroyed buildings. The skeletal remains of their foundations were the only cover the street had, but far down the road was the cluster of tall buildings where their comrade Saybir was waiting, sniper rifle in hand. He'd found himself in the Chancellor District quite by chance, and had got word to Gredam that there was an easy way for them to escape Megacity 5, and therefore escape the government that pursued them. Now the only one who hadn't spoken yet, the girl, stared untrustingly at the open stretch of land and glanced back.  
  
"You're sure there's no way around this?"  
  
"Come now, Teytha," Mortar said briskly as he laid a firm hand on her shoulder, "it's folly to wait, and besides, you'll be at the other side before all of us. Saybir's covering us, so there's no reason to worry." Except of course for the potentially hidden snipers, but that wasn't something people liked to hear.  
  
"No waiting," Gredam said as he pushed ahead, running at full speed, "let's go!"  
  
They were off, and indeed Teytha was the first to reach the other side. Her speed was far better than any of theirs, though Malevex wasn't far behind. The long run, more than half a mile, was over before they knew it, and there were no reports from Saybir's weapon. Mortar was last again, though no one knew if it was because of slowness or simple cautiousness. No one knew what Mortar was capable of, and he liked it that way.  
  
"Come on, come on," Grate said nervously, ushering Gredam and Mortar into the secluded area. "We don't have a lot of time. They're approaching our previous location—holy shit!"  
  
"What?" Gredam said immediately, snapping into an even higher state of alertness.  
  
"More bad news, chief," Grate said pointing ahead of them. "Humans, lots of them. Looks like one of Komanov's dragoon squads."  
  
"Think he'll be there himself?" Malevex asked acidly, with the slightest hint of eagerness.  
  
"Come now, we're never that lucky…" Mortar said under his breath.  
  
"Does it matter?" Gredam snapped. "Where are they coming from?"  
  
"Due north," Grate replied, "and we've got the Traitor moving in from the south…this isn't good."  
  
"Yeah, no shit." Gredam spat a more violent curse and looked for a fraction of a second at each of his friends. Malevex seemed quite nervous, though he appeared more than eager to continue heading north. Teytha was quiet as ever, though there was now considerable fear behind her eyes, a fear that Gredam himself was starting to feel. But it was much less frightening pressing onward than it was to turn back, and Grate seemed to think so, too. Finally there was Mortar, who just looked impatient.  
  
"Who the hell cares about human dragoons?" Mortar hissed, "better them than the murderer behind us!"  
  
"You don't think he can beat all six of us at once, once Saybir gets down here?" Malevex asked the question even though he already knew the answer.  
  
"Perhaps we could win," Gredam replied distractedly, "but he'd kill at least one of us, probably more. I'd rather not have anyone dying here."  
  
"Oh there's gonna be dying all right," Grate said sharply. "But the blood'll be organic! To Light's Point!"  
  
If that didn't decide for them, then the sharp crack from the upper window of the building to their right did the job. Saybir was shooting.  
  
They all spun around to see a Mechaniloid bloodhound slump in a bloody heap, and following it were several others, reinforced by a platoon of humans armed with the most vicious assault rifles on the market. They were faithful soldiers of the Megacity Army under Timofey Komanov, and they believed they were hunting Mavericks. They wouldn't hesitate to shoot on sight.  
  
"GO!" Gredam shouted, and his comrades shot ahead, towards the dragoons waiting somewhere to the north. "Saybir! Forget them! Hurry!" The bullets were streaking by his head now, and he couldn't wait any longer for his comrade. He darted off after his other allies, hoping against hope that Saybir would get a move on, or at least snipe the Traitor if he made an appearance.  
  
The runaways from the failed Terrornova program encountered Komanov's second dragoon squad far ahead. The humans were all in tight formation, and the size of their ranks made them easy targets for the few Reploid targets.  
  
Gredam was the one who began the slaughter, but the others weren't long to follow.  
  
The humans had opened fire immediately, and while their shots were slightly off, Malevex hadn't been able to dart to safety before taking a few laser bursts into his shoulder, damaging his armor more than a little. Gredam had been adamant about the nobody dying thing, and in a brief fury launched an attack in retaliation. His shoulder armor slid back and revealed internal launchers. They flared with little spurts of fire as deadly missiles rose from them, spiraling through the sky and then down into the cluster of humans. Six missiles exploded violently in this way, and the tightly packed humans died together. Malevex leapt out of the shadows he'd hidden in and his lightsaber sang as it cut through the armor on the remaining humans. Teytha darted catlike through the scattered ranks, dragging energy daggers across the throats of stunned soldiers even as they fired wildly at her. Grate launched his giant bursts of plasma, and Mortar merely barreled through the enemies, thinking only to put distance between them and the army behind them.  
  
Gredam didn't hear the enemy approaching him, and it nearly cost him his life. He spun at the last minute when he sensed the presence of another person, a human who fortunately had a jammed weapon. He was, however, wielding a lightsaber, and would have put it through Gredam had he not been decapitated quite suddenly by a force behind him.  
  
A tall, thin Reploid in armor as dark as Malevex's twirled a broad, armor piercing katana and grinned briefly at his comrade. "Always watch your back."  
  
"I owe you a beer, Saybir," Gredam breathed as he nodded his head in thanks, and took off with the others. The humans kept shooting, but the hounds were closing in from behind, and Light's Point was still a half-mile to the north.  
  
"Go!" Mortar shouted as the last group of humans divided and opened fire, "don't wait any longer!"  
  
"Amen!" Gredam shouted as he fired his arm cannon at his attackers. They were all taking hits, with the exception of Teytha, who was too fast for anyone to lock onto. However they were definitely being slowed, and a cold feeling of dread was settling in all of their stomachs.  
  
They'd been expected to go to Light's Point. It wasn't safe, and they knew it, but they had nowhere else to go. Their greatest danger was coming behind them, so they couldn't turn back, and the Chancellor District didn't have many other escape routes. They were caught between two fires.  
  
"Gredam!" Grate crept to his ally's side, speaking loudly over the din of the gunfire. "We're not gonna make it before the demon catches up to us. We've been delayed too long. We have to fight!" It was his worst news yet.  
  
As if to punctuate Grate's message, another squadron of the red armored dragoon forces serving in the Megacity 5 Army emerged from the south. Flanked by their Mechaniloid bloodhounds and equipped with potent weaponry, they were not people you wanted to be hunting you.  
  
Gredam felt his resolve dwindling at this point. Now his mind had been breached by fear, and he began to doubt his plan. He was programmed to be a leader in addition to a good soldier, and his enslavement under the humans hadn't provided much of a chance for him to be a leader. Everyone knew that he had sound judgment, though, and when the time came for them to escape and leave Terrornova behind, his comrades had all placed their trust in him. He could not fail them now. Still, what options did he have? Push north into a potential trap? Returning south was certain death, so traps be damned, they'd have to enter Light's Point.  
  
"Come on, come on!" Grate continued, dragging Gredam by the arm. "We're still going north, I presume?"  
  
"Indeed!" he replied, finding his voice and moving on his own. "If they come, they come. We won't just sit around and wait for them."  
  
"News flash," Malevex interrupted, having overheard his friend, "they're already here."  
  
The dragoons were firing, and there was no cover. Immediately, the assassins of Terrornova split up and went after individual targets. They were far more powerful than any of the humans, but they had already taken significant damage, and no one was able to dodge everything the humans were bombarding them with.  
  
Saybir slammed his heavy bladed sword through a bloodhound in mid air as it was jumping to rip out his throat. The robot dog's head exploded on impact but the rest of it flew through the air like a baseball hit by a bat, colliding head on with its human master. Saybir darted towards the stunned man and snapped his metallic foot out and into the human's chest rather than swinging his sword, breaking ribs but maybe not killing him. Having done what he considered his good deed for the day, Saybir turned and lashed his weapon out in a wide arc. Those who had been closing in on him backed up, and with a little grin of triumph the Reploid slammed his sword down into the earth, producing a shockwave that sent all of his attackers flying back. At the same time a hail of laser shots slammed into his armor, inflicting heavy damage. He staggered briefly and held his broad sword up as a shield to take the remaining shots, and then he dashed over to Gredam to back him up.  
  
Gredam swore to himself as he shot down one of the eagle-like drones the dragoons had swooping down at him. He figured there were about fifteen dragoons, and six of them. Since they were Reploids they probably shouldn't have that much of a problem, but they were low on ammo and energy, and their armor had already taken heavy damage. The situation was beginning to look very bleak.  
  
So, he heard in his mind, is this where you fall to the Purge? Now that they can't use you anymore, the humans would have you killed. Just like Redmond.  
  
"No," he said under his breath, leaping to the side of a human's attack, "Not like Redmond…"  
  
Yes, like Redmond, the evil voice continued, just like Redmond. He was a leader, too, you know. You two could well have served together in the Maverick army, or even the Hunter army, if situations were different. But he failed. He led his friends to their doom at the hands of the Traitor. You saw their bodies. You know how they died. Now it's your turn. Are you going to fall to the Traitor, and join Redmond in his grave?  
  
"NO!" he said, much louder, scaring the hell out of Saybir. He drove forward and the thrusters in his leg armor roared, sending him flying at the closest dragoon. He put his fist through the young man's chest, clear through his armor and clear through his body. He pulled it out, covered in blood, and watched as the white faced human slumped to the ground, a look of horror still plastered on his face.  
  
Gredam stared ever so briefly at his bloody fist, trembling slightly, but not for long. Through the horror at what he'd just done, his resolve had begun to rebuild, though he couldn't explain why.  
  
Good, said the voice, you won't join Redmond just yet. But do take care of your friends now, won't you?  
  
"None of them will die like Redmond and the others did," Gredam swore to himself, spinning around with newfound energy to find his next target.  
  
And then came the single most difficult moment in his life.  
  
Even as he'd said the words to himself, that none of his friends would die, Saybir brought his sword down at one of the advancing bloodhounds. He missed, and before he could pull up his sword, the hound leapt up at his throat. Fortunately the dog missed, for Saybir smashed his helmeted head down at the last minute, sending stars through the dog's cranium, but its claws sheared the armor on Saybir's chest and pierced his protective suit, drawing the coolant that was considered to be the "blood" of Reploids. Saybir shook the dog off and swung his sword down heavily. This time he didn't miss. Gredam approached and Saybir looked up with a quick grin, eying a target behind his leader.  
  
And then a large, demonic sword split Saybir's body from head to toe. As if it were some part of a morbid cartoon, the two halves of the dead Reploid's body fell apart like an opened banana peel and landed unceremoniously on the ground just as Saybir's generator exploded violently.  
  
When the dust settled, Gredam found himself staring in shock first at what remained of his comrade, and then at the monster that had killed him. He was quite tall, even for a Reploid, and was adorned in a full suit of armor colored blacker than the blackest night. The armor was sleek and tight fitting, and its design could only really be described as sinister. Curved metal strips snaked out of his shoulder epaulets, and the same black twisted metal protruded spike-like from his gauntlets and boots, making the armor seem like a metal coat of flowing black fire. A simple yet sharp helmet sat upon his head, black as the rest of him, except for a glowing blue gemstone in the forehead surrounded by coils of gold "fire". The lightsaber he carried was not at all like the kind seen commonly. Rather than the straight laser rod, the sword was jagged and curved, almost like Saybir's now-ownerless sword. It glowed red, and strongly resembled a rising flame, just like the rest of his décor. His face was calm and emotionless, but his eyes just danced with smug glee.  
  
"What do you know?" said the Traitor. "He didn't watch his back."  
  
Time crashed around Gredam as he beheld the embodiment of the fiend humans called Satan. The battle still raged around him, but he wasn't a part of it, and neither was the murderer before him. They were in their own world, protected by a thick yet fragile bubble. At least for now. When Gredam spoke his voice was as flat and emotionless as the expression on the Traitor's face, but his eyes betrayed him as well, for in them was a rage that should have put any man or Reploid in a state of serious alarm, but it had no effect on this particular opponent. "You just never have enough blood on your hands, do you, Chartreuse?"  
  
The Reploid laughed richly, almost pleasantly, and it curdled Gredam's blood that the man could be so chipper after killing someone. "You think I count the vials of blood I spill, Private Gredam? Come now, what kind of hobby would that be?"  
  
"Why?" His voice was now a hiss of accusation. "Why did you become what you are? Why join the human butchers? Why be their bloodhound and betray your fellow Reploids?!"  
  
Chartreuse laughed again, seriously aggravating Gredam. "Why? You still find time to ask that stupid question? Why, why, why? It's always why. Does it matter why? No, no it doesn't. It's happening, so don't question it."  
  
"Silence!" Gredam shouted, raising his blaster and firing off a round towards his hated enemy. Chartreuse easily sidestepped and fixed his gaze on the Terrornova runaway. The corners of his mouth rose in a cruel grin.  
  
"Oh, so the puppet is giving his master orders now, is he…?"  
  
"You're one to talk! You think you're any different?!"  
  
"Of course I'm different!" Chartreuse said with a bright grin, knowing full well he was whittling down Gredam's inhibitions bit by bit. Soon the Reploid would explode in a foolish attack caused by his rage, and then he would be easy pickings. "I am no one's puppet. Unlike you, I have full control over my life, and you know something?" He dropped his voice and leaned forward, talking in a conspiratorial whisper. "The humans couldn't stop me if they tried." Gredam responded with another onrush of plasma, which Chartreuse again sidestepped. "Please, please! I can only laugh so hard without developing a side ache, you know."  
  
"I'll give you much worse than that!" Gredam growled. "You're nothing but a goddamned infant! You stalk around killing everyone you can and giggling about it like it's some game! You don't play games with lives!"  
  
"Why? Who's going to stop me?" He covered his mouth in mock shock. "Well, it seems I have contradicted myself! Imagine, me asking 'why'? Well fine then, I concede. I'll tell you 'why'." His saber suddenly appeared in a striking position, and he poised himself to charge forward. "Because I can."  
  
And here Gredam nearly died. He swerved hard to the right as soon as he sensed that Chartreuse was going to attack, but the searing laser blade still passed through the armor on the left side of his body, fraying a few wires and spilling some blood, but nothing fatal. In a fury, the fugitive hoisted his arm cannon into position and fired shot after shot towards Chartreuse, who danced from side to side, avoiding the blasts like they were slow-moving glaciers. He struck out with his sword again and it planted itself in Gredam's chest. The Reploid gasped in brief horror: by rights Chartreuse should have driven the sword clear through him. However the weapon was pulled out before it sank in far enough to do serious damage, and Gredam staggered back and fought to keep his balance, a new fury brewing in his mind. Chartreuse hadn't killed him for a reason. The son of a bitch was playing with him!  
  
Gathering energies into his blaster, Gredam charged it to its maximum capacity and pointed it towards Chartreuse, who actually halted and bowed in Gredam's direction before he loosed the shot. The giant ball of lethal energies swept by the agile killer as he ducked to the left, though the heat of the projectile had to have put Chartreuse's cooling systems into a critical position.  
  
The shot had missed, but the area around Chartreuse exploded anyway.  
  
Looking around in shock, Gredam realized that the "bubble" that he had imagined around himself and Chartreuse was no more. Chartreuse pulled himself from the ground, where pieces of shrapnel were scattered about. Gredam looked to the north and saw Mortar, standing atop one of the higher masses of exposed building infrastructure. Somehow, the reliable trooper had gotten himself to that high place, and was raining grenade bombs down on the combatants. He'd nailed Chartreuse when the killer had least expected it. Terrornova's bloodhound glowered up at Mortar, as though marking him.  
  
But then more direct help came to Gredam in the form of Grate. He fired bursts from his large arm cannon, and Gredam added his own projectiles to the mix. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Chartreuse snarled and, deciding anything was better than letting more attacks ruin his armor, charged towards Gredam again with his sword poised to kill. Grate halted in shock, unwilling to fire one of his wide blasts when the enemy was so close to Gredam. Fortunately, the group's leader was ready. He hunched over when Chartreuse was close enough and let the armor over his right shoulder slide back. A missile flared up and shot out of the hidden launcher in the Reploid's arm, colliding head on with Chartreuse and sending him back through the air. He rebounded to his feet immediately, teeth clenched in visible fury.  
  
The humans were regrouping. Malevex, Teytha, and Mortar had done a good job of keeping them at bay, but all three Reploids were now hurt in one way or another, though it was mostly armor damage. The seven remaining dragoons clustered around Chartreuse, and the soldiers of Terrornova were once more together. They glared daggers, but did not attack.  
  
Chartreuse made the first move. He charged towards Mortar with his sword held in his left hand. He held it as though he were preparing to slice diagonally downward from high above, and Mortar prepared to dodge it. At the last minute, though, Chartreuse did something odd. He thrust his right arm out towards Gredam, and his wrist gauntlet began to glow with fiery energies. It was as though his gnarled armor was coming alive and becoming the black flames it resembled. The energy, a mix of corrosive plasma, oil, and actual fire somehow colored black, coiled around Chartreuse's wrist and exploded from his hand in a small jet stream that hit Gredam dead on. The leader of the fugitives fell back, screaming, as the attack took its toll. Here it was, the "Black Fire", or the Acidic Flame, so named because the fire coated the victim's body and corroded their armor like acid, and as the searing heat of the flames grew closer and closer to the internal systems of a Reploid, overheating was inevitable.  
  
Unwilling to let that happen, Gredam threw himself to the ground, rolling about furiously. Teytha was at his side immediately, helping to smother the flames. At the same time Mortar was fending off Chartreuse's actual sword chop by rolling to the side and discharging a regular beam of plasma that the killer artfully dodged.  
  
And, finally, the humans were attacking again. Grate fired, taking one down, but he immediately took damage from their gunfire and had to jump back. Teytha was forced to leave Gredam and help Grate fend off the attackers with her speedy swordplay. The remaining bloodhounds were few in number, only three, but they had all targeted Teytha, and they were trying to slow her down long enough for someone to get a shot off at her.  
  
Malevex, on the other hand, could care less about the human threat. Gredam seemed to be recovering from Chartreuse's attack, but Mortar wouldn't stand a chance against the Traitor at close range. He slammed the humming blade of his lightsaber into the ground and thrust both of his palms out at Chartreuse, who was preparing to swing his sword in the arc that Mortar would never suspect, and would never have time to dodge. Energies rose from Malevex's own dark armor and the flames enveloped his hands, but the Black Fire felt very cold to him.  
  
He hated this attack. Why did he have to have it? Why this, of all attacks? Why was his only innate power the same attack used by the greatest Reploid traitor to date? Malevex loathed how similar he was to the humans' pet murderer. Chartreuse had black armor; so did he. Chartreuse was a skilled swordsman; so was he. Chartreuse was a tall humanoid; so was he. Chartreuse could use the unique Black Fire; so could he. Granted, Malevex's attack was a lot weaker than Chartreuse's, but it was still there, and he bitterly opposed using it.  
  
But in this case, it was like giving Chartreuse a taste of his own medicine, and Malevex gladly let the stream of Black Fire—though his had more of a purplish hue—erupt off of his fingertips and stream into Chartreuse's unguarded back, just as the killer swung his sword down in what should have been the blow that killed Mortar. Instead, the Traitor reeled, shrieked, and glared poisonous daggers at Malevex. His sword actually shook in his violently furious hands as he willed the pain to be gone, ignoring the dying fire surrounding him and taking a step towards his new prey, who ripped his sword from the ground and had it in a defensive position in less than a heartbeat, clearly expecting instant retaliation.  
  
He got it, but it wasn't the sword attack he'd expected. Realizing that Mortar was still behind him and probably about to fire a grenade into his back, Chartreuse leapt high into the air, and the Emergency Acceleration System in his boots flared to life, sending him shooting upwards diagonally so that he was soon behind both Malevex and Mortar. As he went up, though, Chartreuse's left arm converted into a fearsome cannon, and unleashed a stream of big, highly concentrated blue orbs of destructive plasma. They were rapid fire, too, and each one was directed at the grounded swordsman. Malevex's thin saber wasn't wide enough to block the shots, and an unlucky hit in his shoulder spun his body sharply around towards the attack and ruined his defenses. His chest and stomach took the full brunt of the few remaining blasts, and they tunneled through his armor like it was butter. He gave a startled cry as the force of the blasts drove him off his feet and to the ground in a heavily damaged heap.  
  
Unfortunately, his pain was far from over. Chartreuse touched down and, despite Mortar's frantically launched blasts and Gredam's furious firing from where he knelt, the killer Reploid was determined to at least incapacitate one more of his enemies while he had the chance. His right fist flared with Black Fire, and it actually traveled up the blade of his wicked sword, giving the weapon quite a hellish appearance. Grinning maliciously, Chartreuse swung the blade and the arc of energies collided with Malevex's prone form. The Terrornova fugitive screamed in as much shock as pain, as the vile flames easily found his vulnerable skin and weakened internals from the holes in his rent armor.  
  
Gredam was on his feet now, and his arm cannon was fully charged and sparkling with overflowing energies. Chartreuse gave him another mocking little bow and snapped his arm cannon out like a striking snake, firing off a few rounds of his formidable plasma before Gredam unleashed his powerhouse blast.  
  
Whatever grand, flashy escape Chartreuse had planned, it didn't go off. He tried to dodge to the right, but the wide blast caught him in the side and spun him around like a top a few times through the air before he landed. He rebounded to his feet instantly, but he had to get his bearings. Mortar took the opportunity to fire a grenade into the ground at the killer's feet, sending him flying back through the air. Chartreuse somersaulted in mid flight and landed on his feet, leaping just as nimbly to the left as a shot from Grate flew past him. He whistled and the two remaining bloodhounds came to his side, for Teytha had killed the third one.  
  
Teytha herself wasn't fighting at the moment. Grate seemed to be handling himself well and Mortar and Gredam had distracted Chartreuse, so she ran towards her other friend, who was still glowing with the poisonous flames. Malevex felt her give him a sort of hug, much like she'd done to Gredam when the Black Fire had hit him, though he figured out she was just trying to get as much of herself onto the fire as she could.  
  
"It clings to anything it touches," she explained weakly, gritting her teeth against the searing pain that the fire caused her as it fled from Malevex's charred armor to hers. "Even other Reploids." She hadn't yet been seriously wounded, and it was much easier for her to withstand the Black Fire than it would have been for Malevex, and she got as much of the fire away from his worst wounds as she could. "There."  
  
"I…thanks," he choked out, forcing the blood in his throat back down.  
  
She nodded, and met his eyes briefly. He saw quite a bit of fear in them, mixed with pain and slight desperation, but something else too…though he couldn't tell exactly what it was. "Get someplace safe," she whispered finally, squeezing his shoulder once and heading back to the calamity.  
  
Safe? Yeah, sure. Where was safe? Where could he go that these damned humans would leave him alone?  
  
But he knew what she'd meant, and he wasn't about to do it. He couldn't hide somewhere and watch Chartreuse kill the others. Getting to his feet, an act that he found more painful than anything in his life thus far, he met the eyes of a human dragoon who'd moved in to finish him off. Teytha must have missed him.  
  
"Oh no you don't," Malevex breathed as he pointed his hand out in the human's direction. Before the dragoon could squeeze the trigger of his assault rifle, the Black Fire was upon him. It ate through his armor the same way it did to a Reploid's, but once it was through, the result was much more serious. The human screamed in the most absolute form of agony, dropping his weapon and clawing at his burning and probably melting body.  
  
"Good, fine," Malevex hissed coldly and with total lack of remorse. "Burn. Melt. Die. Vanish. You and your whole goddamned race." He snatched up his sword and limped off to help the others.  
  
On the other end of the battlefield, Gredam was doing everything in his power to eliminate the bloodhounds. Chartreuse was using them much more effectively than the dragoons had, and was having them attack in ways that would throw off one of the Traitor's intended victims while he moved in for the kill, or to disrupt any defensive formation the Terrornova assassins put together. Mortar leapt against the skeletal frame of yet another building of the ruined Chancellor District and propelled off it to a higher frame, well above where Chartreuse was coordinating his attacks, and dropped one grenade. It went off and badly wounded one of the dogs and killed one of the last two dragoons. In the distance Mortar thought he could hear Malevex somehow manage to kill the other one, and he tried hard to tune the screaming out.  
  
Chartreuse, however, was undaunted. Even as Teytha, Gredam, and Grate flew at him he raised his cannon and fired off his crazy machine gun, scattering the three attackers. His hand flared with dark flames, and once again his lightsaber became the living flame of death. He swung it several times at his opponents, but they were skillful enough at dodging. To make matters worse, Malevex, the one Chartreuse thought he had defeated, was approaching.  
  
Then it all fell apart for the fugitives. Chartreuse suddenly turned and swung his sword hard in Mortar's direction. The soldier had no room on the I-beams and bare scaffolding to dodge the arc of flaming energies, though he tried anyway because of instinct. So, not only did he lose his balance and fall, but also he fell with some of the Black Fire on him.  
  
Teytha leapt at Chartreuse with her sword flying in short, unpredictable arcs. The killer somehow managed to parry them all, but for once there was definite worry etched into his face. He spun his body in a complicated twist, snapping his boot into Teytha's chest and sending her staggering backwards just as Gredam rushed him with a full-body tackle. It spilled neither of them on the ground, but it ruined Chartreuse's balance the same way he'd ruined Teytha's.  
  
Mortar was getting shakily to his feet, and the Traitor saw his chance. He launched his body towards the stocky Reploid and twisted his body half around at the waist, preparing to swing his blade out in the sudden, wide arc that would separate Mortar. Gredam stumbled, still recovering from his tackle maneuver, but Teytha and Grate approached the killer to deter him.  
  
And then Chartreuse pivoted, blasted off his feet with a dash to the right of Mortar with the EAS in his boots, jammed his feet into the ground, and launched himself back at Teytha, bringing his sword towards her with all the force he had, grinning cruelly at the doomed girl who'd deflected so many of his well planned attacks.  
  
She saw it coming, she knew she'd been duped, she knew she was dead, but it didn't stop Teytha from raising both her hands in front of her in what looked to Chartreuse like a final, feeble attempt at defending herself from his lethal blade.  
  
The Traitor's sword cleaved far into Teytha's torso, not quite cutting her in two, but damaging enough inside her that she couldn't possibly survive it. The searing blade melted her armor, caused an explosive gush of coolant, but surprisingly no explosion. Somehow he'd missed her generator.  
  
At the exact same moment the blade hit home, however, a blinding flash of red light enveloped the lonely corner of the Chancellor District. Chartreuse was thrown back through the air like a bullet ricocheting off a wall, and red electricity coursed down his shaking body; Teytha's parting gift.  
  
"AAARGH!" the killer screamed in genuine pain, landing badly amidst his stunned enemies. His scream and the sizzling report of the electricity attack nearly drowned out Mortar's cry of "NO!" and Gredam's growl of rage.  
  
Grate was the first to take intelligent action. He fired his big cannon not at Chartreuse, but at the healthier of the two bloodhounds, killing it quickly. Malevex found enough strength through his fury to cleave the life out of the other one. Mortar had dashed to Teytha's side, and Gredam was just staring at the quickly recovering Chartreuse with a look that combined complete revulsion and disbelief.  
  
For his part, the Traitor had been devastated by that last attack. The electricity had gone straight to his internal programs, and too much electricity was a very bad thing for the big walking computer that was a Reploid. To make matters worse, his attack hounds were gone, and he was facing off against a gaggle of furious Reploids who wouldn't give up for anything now. Time to split.  
  
But he wasn't going to leave with just two kills. He charged forward into Gredam, who couldn't snap out of his shock to act in time, and spilled him to the side with a sweeping kick. He leapt off the ground and punched Malevex hard in the face before the wounded Reploid could react, and while he reeled from that blow the Traitor snapped his boot into the ebon fugitive's weakened stomach, flooring him. He felt the searing heat of Grate's plasma before he heard it, but he ignored the pain and the damage the shot had caused him and snapped his leg up high, kicking Grate in the head.  
  
Completely off guard, Grate staggered back as Chartreuse leveled his cannon and opened fire. Grate had already taken serious damage from handling the dragoons, and this was too much for him. Chartreuse used whatever time he had before the other Reploids recovered to unload plasma into Grate's body, riddling the Reploid with blasts that ripped deeper and deeper into him. An explosion tore through his chest as his generator burst, and the dead Reploid collapsed in a bleeding heap.  
  
Mortar stood, leveled his normal cannon, and fired shot after shot. Chartreuse leapt nimbly still away from the attacks and began a mad sprint off back the way he came.  
  
"Bastard!" Mortar bellowed after him, activating his grenade launcher and raising it high. A grenade flew in a high arc that covered much distance, coming down in the cluster of buildings Chartreuse had just disappeared into. The buildings, already devastated by Death Rogumer's earlier assault, collapsed violently, but whether or not any of this ever hurt Chartreuse was unknown. He was gone. "Cowardly bastard!" Mortar shouted again as a dust cloud buried the area where the buildings were falling as a result of Mortar's destructive vengeance. He looked like he had more to shout, but instead he just let both arms fall to his sides weakly. His firing arm converted back into a hand and he sank back to his knees beside Teytha's still form. She'd choked out her last breaths just as Mortar had come upon her, and he didn't even know if she'd seen him before darkness had taken her. He absently brushed locks of her dark hair away from her face and just as absently stroked her cheek with his thumb, staring down at her with quiet disbelief. He didn't notice that Malevex had also sunk to his knees on Teytha's other side, clutching her hand and staring down with something that was more like guilt than disbelief.  
  
Gredam just stood there, staring quietly down at his two remaining comrades with a mixture of disbelief and guilt greater than either of theirs. He'd failed. Technically the mission was a success because the enemy was defeated and three of them were still alive, but "technically" didn't mean a damn thing. He'd still failed. Grate, Saybir, and Teytha had each placed their trust in Gredam's leadership, and had died because of it. Even the ones who survived had paid a terrible price. Malevex was critically wounded and Mortar was totally drained, and both of them appeared completely devastated.  
  
He himself felt a hollowness brew up in his chest that he somehow knew would never, ever go away. He shook his head slowly, still staring at Teytha's body, and willed himself to turn away. But he wasn't trying to escape the horrific sight; he was looking for another one. He walked slowly towards Grate's plasma riddled body and knelt down beside it, staring into his friend's eyes, still wide with pain and the horror that came with the sudden realization that death was upon you. Gredam jerked his head to the side spasmodically and closed Grate's eyes, getting slowly back to his feet. The hollowness was greater than ever, but he knew it'd get greater still.  
  
He had been designed as both a warrior and a leader. He was programmed specifically to lead troops, but Terrornova had gotten a hold of him before he could join any other army to put his skills to use. As a slave to human butchers, Gredam didn't have much of a chance to exercise any form of troop command, which drove him nuts because on any given day he'd had ten plans completed in his head to defeat his human captors, but he never knew if he had the skill to pull them off. When Sigma had rebelled, the Megacity Army knew their Terrornova program had failed and tried to kill all the Reploids involved in it. They'd moved them all to what they believed to be a secure location, but a fault in the security program of the transports they were riding in allowed most of them to escape. Finally, they were free.  
  
But only in the barest sense were they free, because now the army had a big problem. If the Terrornova soldiers got word out about what the humans had done to them, and what they'd had them do to the Reploids as a people, the Maverick Hunter army would run dry of Reploid recruits. Therefore they'd dispatched their pet killer, Chartreuse, who for some reason was always in favor of the Terrornova commanders despite his being a Reploid.  
  
So now with the threat of death inches behind them, the newly labeled fugitives had to make a run for it. At first they'd all followed Redmond, the other natural leader of the group and Gredam's good friend. They'd planned together all the time, and had devised several ways of eluding the government.  
  
But then Chartreuse had caught Redmond by surprise, and the charismatic soldier had met his end at the tip of the Traitor's blade. Chartreuse and his dragoons killed many of the fugitives that night, and those who lived scattered. Most clustered around Gredam, and now it was up to him to get the others to safety. He'd had the firepower and skill of Grate, Saybir, and Teytha on his side, as well as the strategic skills of his best friend Malevex, and the greatly helpful advice of the wise Mortar. They'd selected Light's Point as their escape route, and all Gredam had needed to do was get them there.  
  
But he'd failed half of them, and that was a wound in his soul that would never heal. He had no experience with the outside world, and therefore he had no personal ambitions yet. His only goal was getting his friends to safety, and they'd believed in his ability to do it. His failure clashed with his programming, which stated that he should never lose men if he could help it, and for a man already completely stressed out this didn't help any.  
  
He came out of his personal prison and realized that he was standing at the spot where Saybir had died. The two gruesome halves of the Reploid's body were still there, and Gredam winced at the sight, but more at the thought of what he had to do now.  
  
For indeed there was one last task he had to perform as Saybir's leader. Streaks of energies shot towards his activated arm cannon as it gathered power, as much power as it could hold.  
  
"I'm sorry," Gredam whispered to the body as he let the shot go. It tore into both parts of Saybir's head and most of his upper torso, and Gredam followed it up with a few normal shots, destroying as much of his comrade's remains as he possibly could.  
  
If any onlooker had been watching, Gredam thought somewhat bitterly, they'd never understand. They'd consider it a brutal act and accuse him of desecrating his ally's remains. However, Saybir was a lost cause. Chartreuse had defeated him completely, and even if by some chance his control chip remained in tact, there was no way Gredam could get him to a place where he could be repaired, not in the state his body was in. Therefore destroying his control chip was the only way to make sure that Terrornova wouldn't revive the poor guy simply to make him suffer a more painful death. They'd done it when the program was still active; if you killed yourself, you were reactivated and tortured back into your grave, usually in front of your comrades to discourage them from doing the same thing. Otherwise all the soldiers would have just killed themselves, and Terrornova would never have worked. The humans probably had better things to do now than waste time reactivating a dead fugitive just to be cruel to him, but Gredam refused to take any chances. The abyss was better than Terrornova, they all knew.  
  
He turned slowly and marched back towards Grate, charging his arm cannon again. It was a terrible feeling, doing this, but somewhere in the more desperate part of his mind, Gredam figured he was at least doing something right for them. He pointed his cannon at Grate, but then he stopped. Grate's torso was ruined, but still connected to the rest of him, and Chartreuse hadn't shot him in the head. Therefore, there might be a way to salvage him, or at least preserve his control chip. His cannon shut down and converted back into a hand. He gently picked up Grate's still, heavy form and slung him rather unceremoniously over his shoulder. Dark Reploid blood spilled down out of Grate's open wounds onto Gredam's armor, and he didn't try to wipe it off. It was his fault it was there.  
  
He moved very slowly now, with the added weight, and made his way back to his comrades. What he found was something he could have done without, but he forced himself to take it in.  
  
Malevex was in the same position, still kneeling quietly at Teytha's side with her hand in his. The two had confided in each other a lot, Gredam knew, and he imagined they'd been kind of close, so he could hardly blame his friend for the tears he was shedding silently.  
  
Mortar, however, had been much closer to Teytha, having acted as a sort of father figure for her, and he wasn't taking this well at all. He wasn't doing anything major; he was just staring down at her, with a very grief stricken expression. He appeared completely deflated, and seemed to age before Gredam's eyes. The cunning fire that had always brimmed behind the Reploid's eyes flickered and died, as though all his resolve was fleeing him.  
  
Finally Mortar bent down and kissed Teytha on the forehead, and then picked her up in his arms as he stood. It seemed as though moving pained him, and he turned slowly in the direction of Light's Point and started walking. Gredam followed, just as slowly, and stopped when he came to Malevex, who was still kneeling quietly on the ground, shaking slightly.  
  
"Come on," Gredam said softly, "we're almost there."  
  
"I…er…" His response didn't sound like it was choked with emotion, but rather frustration. Gredam figured it out, and winced again. Malevex wasn't frozen with grief; he just simply lacked the strength to get up. Gredam noticed for the first time the extent of his friend's wounds.  
  
He stooped down and took his friend under the arm with his free hand, helping him to his feet. Malevex tried to walk but lost his balance almost immediately, and Gredam quickly caught him. He'd have to support his friend and carry his fallen comrade on the trip to Light's Point. It would be a long mile…  
  
They started after Mortar, and moved faster than either would have liked, because no one knew when Chartreuse might come after them with reinforcements. They had to get to the docks as soon as possible. For a long time they walked in silence before Gredam looked down at Malevex, who seemed to be weakening with each step.  
  
"Can you make it to the docks…?"  
  
"I'll make it."  
  
The words were stronger than Gredam had expected, and he nodded. "Do you think Mortar'll be all right?" he said at length.  
  
Malevex looked up, concern in his eyes, but not necessarily for Mortar. "We don't blame you."  
  
Gredam staggered slightly. He must be pretty easy to read in his current state of mind. "I was supposed to get all of us to the point, and half of us are dead."  
  
"I don't blame you," Malevex repeated, "and neither will Mortar. Light's Point was the obvious choice, and none of us would have chosen differently." He smiled, however weakly. "And for what it's worth, thanks for getting me out alive."  
  
Gredam found no words to answer that one. They walked a little further before whatever strength Malevex had been maintaining gave out, and Gredam nearly lost his own balance while trying to stop his friend from falling.  
  
It seemed the stumble also brought down the resolve Malevex had been holding up. "What in hell," he choked out slowly, "did we do to them?"  
  
It was the same question they'd asked themselves every day, but now it hit harder than ever before. "Simple," Gredam replied, surprised at the coldness of his own voice, "we did what they told us to do."  
  
Malevex shook his head slowly while forcing himself to maintain some semblance of control. "They…they can't get away with this…" He stopped long enough to spit a stream of coolant out of his mouth that had bubbled up from his chest. "I hope…" he gagged, getting the rest of the coolant out, "I hope Sigma wins. I hope he rips them all to shreds…every last damn human."  
  
"He will," Gredam said with as firm a nod as he could muster. "He's got the eight most powerful generals in the world, plus Commander Vile. He's got Reploids flocking to him from all corners of the globe. And besides," he added, "even if he doesn't defeat all the humans, the guilty party will get what's coming to them anyway." He took a deep breath, and his life was decided for him. "No, Malevex, they will not get away with this."  
  
"…We'll come back, then?"  
  
"Yeah, we'll come back, once we get stronger…once they forget about us."  
  
Malevex lowered his head, chewing on the idea for a while until finally voicing his opinion. "I get Komanov."  
  
"Fine!" Gredam said with a laugh, his first laugh of the day, and the morbidity of it was cruelly delicious. "Then I get Thornton."  
  
"Mortar can take out Kitao, 'cause Kitao's the one who picked up Chartreuse…"  
  
"And then we can all get Virdelko," Gredam finished, his spirits slightly uplifted by renewed vows of vengeance. No more mourning. No more running. Just action.  
  
"Where to after Light's Point?" Malevex asked, moving with a bit more strength now.  
  
"I figure we can go to the Sherman Division. You know, that old cluster of apartments and warehouses…find a place to recuperate and get final charter out of the Megacity. From there…I don't rightly know, I admit."  
  
"That works for me. So, the Sherman Division?"  
  
"Yeah." Gredam smiled. He didn't have much confidence at all, but at least he had a plan again. "From there things will come together."  
  
But they hadn't come together, not at all. The Sherman Division at the outskirts of Sub City 3, the final suburb of Megacity 5, was not the sanctuary they had hoped it would be. Instead, the only memories of the division and the warehouse they had commandeered were fire, fire and falling walls, and the desperate battle cries of friend and foe.  
  
Gredam of Terrornova opened his eyes lazily, staring at the ceiling of his small chamber. Subconscious lapses into his past had become almost routine for him, and he knew by now that he didn't have any chance of returning to sleep if he didn't sort out his thoughts. Therefore he swung his legs out over his bed and got to his feet, walking groggily towards the single window in his room. It was a small living area, and he liked it that way. Since he was the chief commander of the Mavericks, he could by rights have taken the much larger room Sigma used to occupy, but Gredam had always—and for good reason—suffered from a bit of paranoia, and quite preferred having a smaller place to keep an eye on.  
  
He stared out at the bright moon and rested his chin in his hands, not bothering to brush away locks of his thick brown hair away from his eyes, figuring he'd be back in bed soon enough. He knew he could get along just fine without sleep, but Gredam found recharging chambers to be uncomfortable and untrustworthy, as he always seemed to find the ones that broke while in use. However there was a much more obvious reason for Reploids to sleep that most people still yet overlooked: it passed time. The world, by all accounts, shut down at night. Reploids who enjoyed the nightlife were in paradise, but for the vast majority of the mechanical race, it was just as well to sleep the night away than it was to stay awake through the long hours of the dark doing little to nothing. Gredam of course had plenty to do, and he should be doing it, but at that moment in time he didn't care. Life had been stressful lately, and he wanted a night off. Rank hath its privileges.  
  
But apparently he would be denied even that, he thought with a roll of his eyes. His mind liked to replay the Chancellor Battle in particular over and over in his sleep, and he never liked it any better. He was grateful that at least this time the dream stopped before arrival at the Sherman Divison, which was probably the worst incident of them all.  
  
Gredam, Mortar, and Malevex, with the deactivated Grate and Teytha, had gotten to Light's Point without incident and commandeered a vessel for their own use. Mortar, who had always been a talented mechanic, had fixed Malevex up enough that he was no longer in any mortal peril, and they had infiltrated the Sherman Division quietly. They'd set up shop in a warehouse, and there Mortar worked to remove Teytha's well-preserved control chip from her body. He'd sealed it in a box equipped with very sturdy armor, wanting to take no chances. With the control chip, it might be possible to one day revive Teytha, but not all traits were stored in a control chip. Without her old body, Teytha would never be the same. Mortar had intended to rescue Grate's control chip as well, but unfortunately the past had caught up with them sooner than they would have liked.  
  
Timofey Komanov had of course expected the fugitives to head for Light's Point, and for that reason sent Chartreuse and the dragoons to that location. He'd also accepted the possibility that Chartreuse might fail to exterminate all six Reploids, however unlikely it may have seemed, and placed spies in Light's Point just in case anyone slipped through. Of course, the three survivors had been seen, and it wasn't long before the dragoons were coming back for more. They'd quickly found the runaways and bombarded their warehouse with heavy fire, destroying most of it and invading with a vengeance.  
  
Gredam had become separated from his friends during the chaos, and while he could hear them fighting and yelling, he never managed to meet up with them. Blissfully, Chartreuse was not leading the dragoons, and so Gredam was able to slip away from the attackers, eluding Terrornova once and for all.  
  
But escape came at a high price. Malevex and Mortar had escaped, though Gredam had not seen it, and they had been scattered from that point on. Gredam believed both of his friends to be dead, and he had seen the warehouse collapse completely, burying Teytha and Grate forever in rubble. For all intents and purposes, Gredam had now lost them all.  
  
From that point on Gredam had become the Reploid version of a bum, slinking through back alleys of the Sub Cities surrounding Megacity 5, not caring if Terrornova found him, and no longer concerned with life or death. What right did he have to live, if everyone else had died? A leader was supposed to die with his soldiers; it was one of the most important principles in Gredam's programming. But something stopped him, and while he'd thought it to be simple cowardice, he later discovered that something deep inside him knew something he didn't; somehow he knew that he wasn't the only survivor.  
  
Then came the end of the Third War and the defeat of Dr. Doppler, and with it the rise of Kou Cao the Gold Serpent. The current king of the underworld was but a small power then, and soon recruited all of Doppler's remaining followers who faced persecution by the Hunters and humans, offering them work and building a coalition of loyalty among both humans and Reploids, which only added to his mystique; no one knew if the Gold Serpent was a human or a Reploid. No one even knew if Kou Cao was his true name. He was a total enigma, and he probably liked it that way.  
  
The Gold Serpent had found Gredam at long last, and invited him into the massive underworld ring he was building. Since the work would give some point to his day-to-day existence, Gredam agreed, and began taking jobs for the shadowy power broker, doing mostly grunt work. If the Serpent had realized the power of Gredam's strategic mind, he would have called on him to do bigger, better things, but Gredam believed himself to be a total failure in that area, and so kept his so-called skills a secret.  
  
Working for the Gold Serpent brought two major blessings. The first was realized when Gredam was supposed to help a spy take out a human crime boss. The spy, as Gredam had soon learned, was working for a small but highly secret espionage ring lead by a man who was supposed to be almost as conservative as the Serpent himself. Gredam had asked the name of the spy's boss, figuring there might be an opportunity for work, and couldn't believe what he had been told: Malevex was alive, and operating a spy network for the Gold Serpent.  
  
It hadn't been hard to track down his best friend, and from then on talk began to brew again of exacting revenge upon their human captors, if any were still alive. There were many taskmasters involved in the Terrornova program, but many had fought in the Maverick wars and been killed. Nevertheless they began to reminisce, and that brought up extremely strong anti-human feelings that they would get a chance to act upon soon enough.  
  
But before that Kou Cao unveiled his second inadvertent blessing. Lately a scientific movement had begun that involved resurrecting destroyed Reploids that were in good enough shape to work on. The movement was strongly supported by Metal Shark Player, a controversial Reploid figure, and it was rumored that he was sending agents to investigate the Megacity 5 junkyards to see if there was anything he could work with.  
  
Now, when the Gold Serpent had someone killed, he had them killed for a reason. He wasn't too thrilled about the thought of some of them being brought to life to satisfy the dreams of a dumb shark keen on recycling, and hired Malevex to make sure that the junkyards were Shark Player-Free. He'd taken Gredam with him, and they'd found no agents of the shark, but they did find plenty of in tact bodies that may or may not be enemies of the Serpent. Most were destroyed, but Malevex's most capable agent, the sniper Diavus, had halted his mission to examine a peculiar shaped lightsaber, and couldn't quite bring himself to destroy the remains of the owner. When Malevex and Gredam had come over to have a look, Diavus had suddenly become their new best friend.  
  
He'd unwittingly discovered the body of Teytha, which apparently hadn't been lost forever in Sherman Ambush, as they called it. They searched for Grate's remains, but nothing was found of him. Malevex had taken Teytha's control chip with him when he'd fled their warehouse all those years ago, and so they took her body back to Malevex's base, repaired it, and revived their ally. She'd seemed rather shaken up by the whole death thing, but her mood changed gradually as time went on. She was now free, after all, and compared to her old profession, working for Kou Cao was a cinch.  
  
Then, the Repliforce was blamed for the destruction of the Sky Lagoon, and the Fourth War began. When the Maverick Hunters had triumphed again, Sigma had escaped death aboard the Final Weapon only to assume control of a spiritless, broken army. Never before had the future seemed so bleak for the Mavericks. Sigma had no veterans on his side, and instead was full of fresh-faced young'uns and cutthroats without anywhere else to turn. Here, the survivors of Terrornova saw their chance.  
  
Through his spy network and with the Gold Serpent's help, Malevex was able to track Sigma down to Seraph Castle and all three had offered their services to the Maverick King. They would train the army and rebuild it, and thus give Sigma another chance to accomplish his original goal of a Reploid nation. Sigma quickly hired them and placed them in command of the army, and while they trained the soldiers often, "The Team" was never seen elsewhere.  
  
Until now. Gredam looked hard at the moon, sinking already into the horizon to make room for the coming sun. Now he was the leader of the Mavericks, and his comrades with him. Even Mortar was there. With the resources they had as Maverick chieftains, they had learned that the old Reploid was still active in the slums of Megacity 5, and now he was secure in his own quarters not far from Gredam's. Malevex and Teytha had returned safely from the Blackstar 5041 hijacking, and they were not in any mortal danger.  
  
So why, then, did his blasted mind have to replay that particular incident tonight?  
  
The result of the Chancellor Battle had left three of Gredam's closest friends dead. Now one of them was alive again, and he'd found both Mortar and Malevex via the Serpent. Things had turned out much, much better than he could ever have hoped. He and Malevex had even managed to destroy two of the Terrornova commanders, just like they'd sworn they'd do as they limped from the Chancellor District. Everyone was safe, so why the dream?  
  
Perhaps it was a reminder. Gredam had been unprepared for the humans in the Chancellor District, and through no fault of his own. Still, the consequences had been horrible, and he blamed himself for what happened enough that he couldn't let it happen again. Now, he had a much larger host under his command, and they placed much belief in the thought that The Team would make the Maverick army great again, and he above all didn't want to fail them there. So, he had to be prepared this time. He'd cover every base, and would do everything in his power to make sure Seraph Castle didn't fall. That was his duty to his men.  
  
But he also had a duty to his friends, he knew. He was becoming more aware of it every day, and he had no idea what to do about it. Mortar was still full of wise advice and his own wit, but much of the fight seemed to be taken out of him. Technically Mortar wasn't that much older than Gredam at all, but the heaviness that seemed to follow the Reploid around made him seem much older. Even though he'd been tuned up at Seraph Castle, where he figured it was safe, he still seemed quite intent on taking his sweet old time going about his business, and his business was never war, if he could help it.  
  
But Mortar wasn't the only one who seemed uncomfortable in his new surroundings. Teytha, too, seemed to want something else. She was a terrific soldier and was more than willing to help them out, but Gredam knew that she was only here because they were, and that she'd strike out on her own away from the dangers of combat were it not for her fear of being alone in a human controlled world. And even Malevex, for all his efforts and his longstanding hatred of the humans, seemed to be more reserved than usual lately. He'd been talking a lot with Mortar, and he'd also been spending enough time with Teytha that Mortar was teasing them both about it. The dark Reploid seemed to be gradually changing, however slightly. There was an uncertainty about him, as though he were worried privately about something that probably wasn't about killing humans…no, more likely he was beginning to feel that Seraph Castle was not as safe for them as it had originally seemed.  
  
And Gredam felt that way, too. As the culmination of his plan drew nearer, his enthusiasm was giving way to anxiety, and he desired now nothing but to get it over with. He tilted his head to look toward the mountain where the Mavericks had hollowed out a giant cave to serve as a garage. In there, the airship Gallagher was three fourths constructed. Revolver and his crew had completed the hull and outer shell and were now installing the components that would turn it into the war machine Gredam wanted it to be.  
  
A thin smile crept onto Gredam's face. It would be hard to keep the Hunters at bay after this plan went into motion, and they would storm Seraph Castle for sure. As it stood, the Mavericks couldn't hold out against such an attack, and so they would have to take out the Hunters with one good, solid blow. Gredam had the means to do that, and soon he would have the vehicle to do it with. And not only would the Hunters fall if the plan succeeded, but another group would be devastated, a group that relied heavily on a floating base…  
  
But if they failed, there really was nothing they could do to stop their demise from coming about. At that point it would be up to him to get as many of his men out alive as he could, as Sigma had so often done in the past. This was an unsettling thought, because he hadn't been so good at that last time…  
  
"But why worry?" he asked himself quietly, turning from the window and yawning. Indeed, why worry? They had the initiative; they had surprise on their side. The humans and the Hunters would never lock onto the Maverick plan until it was far, far too late, and even then Gredam had several nice surprises waiting for them. It may be a hard fought battle, but they would win it.  
  
And even if they couldn't beat the Hunters, Gredam thought as he laid back down in his bed, the most important target would never escape. The survivors of Terrornova would have their revenge. 


	20. Soldier's Price

1 Chapter Nineteen: Soldier's Price  
  
"And then he says, 'I don't care how long you've been stinkin' up this place for! I can still decapitate ya from a league away, so give me my three feet of personal space, dammit!'"  
  
"Sick," Vulcan said with a weak laugh, staring up at Rykov, who stood to the left of his hospital bed. "What'd the prick do then?"  
  
"Tried to look cool, of course," said Krysta, who sat in the chair at the right of the bed. "Nightchaser always has to look cool, though I don't think it ever works. I forget his exact words, but he just kept following Scythe around grumbling things like 'Think you can take me? Come on, then! It shouldn't be that hard. You're the Winner Of The Weapons Match, after all! Or are you afraid to have a real duel, like a real man?'"  
  
"Now you know Scythe," Rykov said with a snicker. "He can tune out anything that he doesn't want to hear. But this time was different, for whatever reason. Dunno…maybe he fell outta bed, or somethin'. Nightchaser just kept yapping and yapping and was still within the three feet of personal space Scythe had just demanded, and from where I was standing I could see the little guy's face getting darker and darker until finally it looked like he was gonna go stark raving Maverick, right there on the spot."  
  
"Jeez," Vulcan breathed, "Chase musta really pissed him off. This isn't like Scythe at all…"  
  
"Oh, you should have seen it!" Krysta laughed. "But wait, wait, it's not over."  
  
"Yeah, like I was SAYING," Rykov began again with mock annoyance, "We were all in the office row, so there were a bunch of cubicles about, yeah? Well Nightchaser said something really bad, and Scythe still won't tell what it was. So our little golden friend grabs a cup of coffee from some human's desk and snaps his arm back towards Chase." Rykov flailed his fingers in front of his face to imitate a splash. "You know how hot the HQ serves its coffee; scalding as the brimstone of hell. And it all went into Nightchaser's face."  
  
"Ohhhh my God…." Vulcan rested his head back on his pillow, giving up his attempts at sitting up, and briefly surrendered to a fit of weak laughter. He stopped when it broke into a racking cough, and concentrated on getting a hold on himself. "Scythe did this? The same Scythe I know?"  
  
"Yeah, we didn't believe it either," Rykov nodded, still laughing at the memories.  
  
"And what did Chase do?" Vulcan pressed.  
  
"Oh, let me, let me!" Krysta jumped to her feet and got in front of Vulcan's bed so he couldn't miss it. "I won't imitate the screaming, since I'd probably give everyone in the infirmary a heart attack, and that looks bad on your resume, so… But when he did recover enough to talk, he looks at Scythe, who's already starting to stalk away, and he's like…" She stopped and hunched herself over, pointing a shaking finger out towards Vulcan as if he were Scythe and she were Chase. She twisted her face into as horrific a mask of pain and hatred as she could without actually being in either state, and said in a raspy voice "'You'll…pay…for…THAT!'"  
  
Rykov was in hysterics. "That's it! That's exactly it!"  
  
Vulcan laughed hard, easily picturing Nightchaser in such a pose. It hurt to laugh, but he didn't care for now. Unfortunately he fell into a bit of a laughing fit, being unable to cleanse his mind of the thoughts, and when his laughs became laced with pain Krysta finally planted a firm hand on his chest to stop him.  
  
"Whoa man!" Rykov chuckled. "Don't die. We'll get blamed."  
  
"Aw, hell…" Vulcan said, snickering still. "It'd be a great way to go." He stretched his aching limbs as far as the bed would allow. "I miss all the good stuff."  
  
"Well," Krysta said with a "That's life" expression, "Now you know how I felt."  
  
"Hey, that's not entirely fair," Rykov pointed out in as rational a tone of voice as he could utter.  
  
"How so?" the female queried.  
  
"You see," Professor Rykov explained, "Vulcan here was eviscerated many times over by a Maverick. You were merely shredded by shrapnel."  
  
"Oh yeah, MUCH better!" Krysta stopped and stared for a few seconds down at Vulcan. After a while Vulcan grew uneasy, and when he was about to ask what she was staring at she finally spoke, chuckling all the while. "Vulcan got beat up by a girl."  
  
"Hah!" Rykov laughed. "That's right! It WAS a girl that nailed you, wasn't it?"  
  
"You guys suck!" Vulcan tried to sound angry, but he too was laughing again. "It's not like I had a chance, all right? She came out of nowhere!"  
  
"Excuses, excuses, excuses." Krysta grinned and ruffled her friend's hair. "But that's okay. We'll still be your friends, even if you are a wuss."  
  
"Aw, gee, thanks." Vulcan smiled and shook his head. "You sound like Nightchaser now."  
  
"On second thought," Rykov said with feigned disgust as he drew away from the bed, "maybe we WON'T be your friends, after that comment."  
  
"Okay, I concede. That one was out of line."  
  
Krysta grinned and was about to say something else, but instead she went slack jawed for a few seconds. Then she snapped to attention, followed by Rykov. Vulcan craned his neck around, trying to see what they were looking at, but he had no luck. Soon enough, though, his problem solved itself.  
  
Rykov and Krysta both stepped back to allow Commander X room to pass or talk to Vulcan, who he seemed to be headed towards. The azure Reploid seemed very uncomfortable with the formality of his underlings' salutes. "At ease, please."  
  
"Is there something we can help you with, Commander?" Rykov said, fumbling a bit over his words. He didn't feel at ease at all. X might not be the most intimidating Reploid in the world, but he'd done enough in his life to be an imposing presence, at the very least.  
  
"No, it's okay," X replied with an easy smile. "I uh, actually wanted to talk to Vulcan alone for a while, if you don't mind…?"  
  
"Oh, well, er, sure!" Krysta, too, was a bit awkward around the Great X. She looked at Vulcan, eyes wide with confusion. "See you later, then."  
  
"Bye," Vulcan replied as the two found their way out of the infirmary, leaving him alone with X. The silver Hunter tried to sit up a little in his hospital bed. He as well had great respect for this Reploid, and wanted to at least try to show it. X frowned slightly, not expecting nor wanting the gesture, but knowing Vulcan wouldn't let himself lay back down even if ordered to. Vulcan had never actually talked one on one with X. They'd exchanged some words during the train battle, but they were mostly orders and confirmations of those orders. X was soft-spoken and generally pretty mild mannered and friendly, but Vulcan still felt awkward around him, probably because it wasn't really protocol to talk to commanders like they were your equals.  
  
"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" Vulcan finally asked.  
  
"Oh, no," X replied quickly, motioning to the machines Vulcan was hooked up to. "I don't think you'll be able to do anything for a while."  
  
"Yeah, well…" Vulcan smiled, both weakly and nervously. "Can't help that, can I?"  
  
"No," X agreed, "I guess not. But still, I guess that's why I'm here."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
Now it was X's turn to look uneasy. "I'd like to thank you."  
  
"For what?" Vulcan asked, quite confused now.  
  
"Well, among other things, for doing your best against that female Maverick. But mostly, for saving the lives of Feldspar and myself."  
  
"Saving your…?" Vulcan's eyes flashed briefly with understanding. "Oh, no, sir I was just doing my job!"  
  
"Yeah, and in the process you bought me the time I needed to recover from that electricity attack. You stopped that woman from taking out Feldspar, and you took her ambush attack for me."  
  
"Well, uh…" Vulcan stammered, not feeling it would be right to take any credit for anything. "I didn't really take it for anyone, sir. I just kinda jumped."  
  
"True," X nodded, "but still, she was laying in wait for me. How do I know? You looked awfully blue in the moonlight when you leapt over that gap to the engine car, Vulcan. Also, you probably didn't see that woman's face when she saw who she'd sliced. She was very disappointed that you weren't me. So, inadvertently or not…" X extended a hand to Vulcan, who took it warily. "You saved my life, and I thank you."  
  
"Uh…thanks—I mean, you're welcome, er…" Vulcan felt his face heating up.  
  
X laughed. "Yeah, I figured you'd be humble again. You think I'm bad? Wait till Feldspar sees you again. All he's been saying to Zero is how grateful he was that you were still on that train."  
  
"Oh, boy…" Vulcan almost rested his head back on the pillow in a daze, but he caught himself beforehand. "All I did was what I was supposed to do. It was nothing special…"  
  
"Seems that way, doesn't it?" X crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes flickered briefly with some memory. "About two decades ago, I wandered around a war torn Megacity 5 and killed eight Maverick generals serving the new Maverick King, Sigma. I couldn't figure out why everyone was so happy and pleased with me whenever I came back from a successful mission. I mean, it was just my job, right?"  
  
"Er, I think I see what you mean."  
  
"Yeah. So, it is just your job, but when you do your job well, people notice." He grinned. "Already you've got two Maverick Hunters who owe you big. Not bad for a fairly new guy."  
  
"I suppose so," Vulcan agreed, and added with a little grin of his own, "Especially when you throw in that everyone thinks I killed Sigma."  
  
"Heh, yeah, that too. But still you insist that you didn't…you don't have to be humble forever, you know."  
  
"I know, but I also can't take credit for something I didn't do." Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe me?"  
  
"Nah, I do, I do…" X shook his head slowly. "It just makes things complicated, is all."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Well, it's easy to just say that you, a Hunter, killed Sigma. You were the only one of us with a clear shot at any time, and it would only make sense that you were the one who pulled the trigger. But if you didn't do it, well…someone else did, and for the life of me, I can't figure out who did it."  
  
"Maybe it was one of their own number," Vulcan suggested. "Someone who didn't like the way Sigma was running things?"  
  
X nodded. "That's very possible. Sigma's led his men through four failed wars, and it may well be that the Mavericks have finally lost faith in him. And, to back up that theory, whoever's in charge of the Mavericks now have things a lot better organized than Sigma did the last few times."  
  
"What about that bear?"  
  
"Grizzly Slash? We haven't ruled him out, either. Whatever he was meeting Sigma over, it didn't thrill him. Maybe Sigma found out that Grizzly had talked to us about Seraph Castle…oh well. We can't find the guy to interrogate him. What's more, I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?"  
  
"Yeah," Vulcan agreed. "So long as Sigma's dead, it don't matter who it was that killed him."  
  
"So, it's better to focus on other things…" X frowned and at length motioned again to the machinery surrounding the recuperating Hunter. "Did they tell you how long you'd be in here?"  
  
"Uh, yeah," Vulcan answered, pulling the information from his memory banks. "It'll take all next week for the nanobots to heal most of me, and then I'll be released. I can't fight or train, however, for another week after."  
  
"Hmm…" X seemed to be toying with an idea in his head. "Well I guess that's good."  
  
"…Sir?"  
  
"Oh, it's nothing. Just something Zero said."  
  
"Zero?" Vulcan suddenly felt nervous again.  
  
"Yeah. He's pretty impressed with you, too."  
  
And there it was, Vulcan's chief fear. "I uh…didn't know that, sir."  
  
"Well, you don't sound too enthused about it. Something wrong?"  
  
"No, uh, not really." Vulcan wasn't sure if he should speak so freely just yet.  
  
"Go on, tell me. If it's something you think your commanders need to know, tell us when you have the chance."  
  
"Well…" Vulcan took a few seconds to decide that he'd actually speak his worries, and then took even longer to organize his thoughts into words. "It's just that…you say that you and Zero and everyone think I'm doing really good. Maybe I am, for someone with my experience, but that's the most of it. My experience is limited to two missions. The first one I didn't do a thing except snipe a Maverick guard. The second, I followed my instincts and dodged rifle fire, engaged in a swordfight that didn't last more than a minute, and wound up getting cut up. The point is, I really don't think I'm even half as good as what you seem to be suggesting, and that kinda scares me, cause…"  
  
"Cause you're afraid we'll expect you to do great things, when you haven't really done anything you consider to be huge and noteworthy in the first place?"  
  
"Well…yeah, exactly. You'll trust me to do something I won't be able to do."  
  
X frowned and rubbed his temple, considering his response for a while. "I understand your concern. You've been thrown into a lot that most other rookies never have to face. But you're hardly a rookie anymore because of it, you know. I guess, in normal circumstances, you wouldn't be asked to take such chances, and would get to develop normally, but now…" He stopped and seemed to be debating whether or not he should continue. "Ah hell, it's no use trying to hide the obvious. Whenever the Mavericks start gaining power, there comes a point when they either launch their major attack or get too powerful to ignore. We're getting very close to that time. Intelligence still can't figure out what the Mavericks smuggled on Blackstar 5041, but you can bet they're up to something big, and they've had plenty of time since Seraph Castle was erected to work on whatever they've got planned. If at all possible, we'd like to catch them before they launch their major attack. Therefore…soon enough, probably within the coming month, there's gonna be a war. Hopefully it will be a small one, nothing like the Repliforce revolt. Just an all out offensive on Seraph Castle."  
  
"How come we haven't done that before? Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to…"  
  
"It's okay. I know how you feel… You see, there are actually a lot of politics involved in launching a war, even against the Mavericks. The government has to give permission for the Hunters to lead the whole of their reserves against the enemy, and we generally need the help of the Megacity Army in addition to our own forces. Humans don't want the Mavericks around any more than we do, but for whatever reason they're extremely fearful of taking care of their problems, and won't act unless there's a credible threat staring them in the eye. So, that's why we haven't tried attacking Seraph Castle yet…we don't have enough evidence to convince the humans that it's a necessary measure."  
  
"Man, that's bullshit!" Vulcan blurted, and stopped cold after he said it. "Er, sorry…"  
  
X laughed. "It's extreme bullshit, actually. But, it's easier to just humor them. It's their lives on the line, after all." He coughed uneasily. "But getting back to your worries, when this war begins, we're gonna need the best of our recruits assuming more of leadership positions to assist their Unit commanders."  
  
"Oh, man…"  
  
"Yep. You can bet that you'll be one of Archer's sergeants, which really isn't a bad thing at all."  
  
Vulcan looked at the Hunter champion with a slightly embarrassed look. "I can't lead troops for crap."  
  
"Me neither," X answered, surprising the hell out of the silver Reploid. "Sometimes I think people just follow me for my legend." He grinned. "But hey, whatever works. Anyhow, it wasn't easy for me, and it isn't easy for most people, but hey…that's how you get promoted."  
  
"Yeah but still," Vulcan persisted, "it sounds easier said than done."  
  
"Everything is, nowadays. It's the price soldiers pay for getting permission to destroy things. You see yourself in this bed, sliced to ribbons by the enemy? Soldier's price. Me, I was a die-hard pacifist when I took up my weapons the first time, and my price was a rude awakening and a new outlook on life."  
  
"Can I ask something, sir?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"…Do you still believe in pacifism now?"  
  
X chewed his lower lip. "I don't like fighting and war, no. I don't like them, but now I do accept them. If war is the only option other than facing something like Sigma's tyranny, so be it. It's regrettable, but…if it's gotta be done, then it's gotta be done, you know?"  
  
Vulcan nodded. "I think I understand…"  
  
X nodded in turn and it was quiet. Then the azure Hunter straightened and smiled slightly. "I guess I'll let you rest, then. We need you out of here as soon as possible."  
  
"I'll be ready, sir." With that X left and Vulcan finally was able to collapse back onto his pillow, his eyes widening. Why did he get all the attention he didn't want? It would be so much easier to be like Rykov and Krysta…just nameless rookies who went through the motions, same as everyone else. Was this what Harrier had wanted? Vulcan wondered briefly whether or not the late Hunter would still pursue this dream if he were the one laying in a hospital bed here.  
  
Oh well. If something had to be done, then it just had to be done…right?  
  
_______________________  
  
Meanwhile, in the HQ lounge, Vulcan was still the subject of attention.  
  
"Hell, man!" Krysta grumped, pretending to be angry. "No grand commander ever came to see ME when I was cooped up in there."  
  
"Vulc's just passing the rest of us by," Rykov replied.  
  
Krysta sighed and leaned back in the chair she sat in. "Wonder what was said?"  
  
"So do I. Though I'm sure that you'll find out when you visit him in an hour."  
  
Krysta frowned. "And what, praytell, is that supposed to mean?"  
  
Rykov laughed evilly. "Come on now, lass. You've been in and out of the infirmary to see him every day. I wonder if Nightchaser wasn't on to something…"  
  
She gasped and punched him in the shoulder. "How dare you? First agreeing with that rabble-rouser, and then insinuating that I would ever flirt with someone? Ridiculous!" To punctuate, she batted her eyelashes at a handsome human Hunter standing near the door. He blushed and promptly made an exit.  
  
Rykov laughed and stretched. "Come on. You mean you don't even like him a little bit? Come on already, I need my fix of gossip for the week!"  
  
"Well you won't be getting it from me!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "He's my pal, nothing else. He visited me all the time, at least more than YOU did, you big laggard." Rykov feigned a hurt expression. "So, you see, I'm just paying him back now, rather than having to do it later."  
  
"I see," Rykov replied, smiling. Though this means you're not attracted to anyone, which makes you a natural oddity. Most females here attach themselves to the first good looking guy they see, regardless of IQ."  
  
"Well you're not so ugly yourself," Krysta said with a playful grin, and then broke into smothered laughter.  
  
"Touché," Rykov conceded, reddening a little. "I haven't been speechless in a long time, and damn you, you did it…"  
  
"Mwa ha ha." She raised her eyes before continuing, acknowledging a new presence.  
  
"Is this seat taken?" asked a slight, golden Reploid.  
  
"Hell no!" Rykov boomed, getting to his feet and slapping Scythe on the back. "I'll goddamned wait on you if you want! You earned it!"  
  
"Thanks but no thanks," Scythe said warily, sitting down. "I was hoping you'd be the quiet ones."  
  
"Fat chance of that!" Krysta laughed. "What's wrong? Tired of the attention? You should have known that assaulting Nightchaser would make you a lot of friends."  
  
"Pity," the introvert replied. "I'm more worried about Nightchaser's so called friends. The last thing I need is for them to teepee my barracks or something, and I think they might do it, especially if people keep congratulating me."  
  
"HEY!" a new voice called out. "Where you been, boy? I owe you a drink!"  
  
"You see what I mean?" Scythe replied with a weak laugh, yet in real humor, and got to his feet to shake Alec Tremont's hand.  
  
"That was great! That was priceless!" Alec pumped Scythe's hand vigorously, laughing cruelly at the whole mental image. "Scalding hot coffee in the face! I bet the sonovabitch would've shit his pants if he were capable of it!"  
  
"I wish you'd seen it," Scythe said with a grin. "You'd have gotten a kick out of it."  
  
"Yeah, Alec," Rykov put in. "The look on his FACE…"  
  
"Oh!" Alec exclaimed, slapping himself upside the head. "Dopey me. Krysta, Rykov, wassup? How's the third in your posse?"  
  
"Vulcan'll live," Rykov shrugged. "X is with him now."  
  
"X, eh?" Alec tilted his head. "Maybe he won't live…but in any case. Scythe, one of these days I promise ya the most expensive beer this place sells! That prick had this coming for YEARS and it couldn't have been more perfect!"  
  
"Sure," Scythe nodded, "but we'll have to watch our backs. I'm…going…to…pay…for…this!"  
  
Krysta and Rykov all but died at Scythe's imitation of the furious Nightchaser, which was an even better one than Krysta's. Alec pulled up a chair and joined the others and from there the subject changed.  
  
"So enough about little old me," Scythe said quickly. "How've you been since they released you from the infirmary, Krysta?"  
  
"Damn good, thank you." She stretched and winked. "Now I can get back to doing better than Rykov."  
  
"If you dare come between me and Hawkins while we're sparring, that is," the demolitions expert said with a laugh. Suddenly his eyes went wide as he remembered something fairly important. "Alec! Speaking of my Unit, the docs said that Kyre is A-OK, and will be released sometime next week, however long it takes to stabilize his new generator components."  
  
"Hot damn!" Alec slapped his knee. "Don't that beat all! Glad to hear it, Kyre's a good guy. Thanks for the heads up!"  
  
"Feh," Krysta chuckled, "he'd have forgotten to tell you if you hadn't found us first."  
  
"But the point is," Rykov interjected quickly, "that that's not how things turned out, and now you know. So there! Great happiness."  
  
"Great happiness indeed," Alec agreed, "but I wonder for how long?"  
  
"You mean, the Rumor?" Scythe's interest was perking again.  
  
"Yep, the good old Rumor." Alec grinned at Rykov and Krysta, who seemed to be in the dark as to what the great Rumor happened to be. "Come on, it's not that difficult. But you ARE newbies, after all…"  
  
"Oh knock it off, you vulgar little man." Krysta grinned back and leaned forward. "There's a jillion rumors floating about this joint, so forgive us if we don't know all."  
  
"I knew," Scythe said with an evil grin.  
  
"Well you're just that much better than us," Rykov said with a faux sneer. "But for those of us who aren't omniscient, a little clarification would be nice, ya know."  
  
Alec shrugged. "Well if you insist. It's really pretty obvious, and it's nothing that secret. Rumor has it that the Hunter bigwigs are finally planning a move on Seraph Castle, the Maverick HQ."  
  
"Whoa!" Krysta exclaimed. "So we're going after the Maverick Bosses?"  
  
"Well, it's just a rumor," Scythe said, "but come on. We're gonna have to make a move on the Maverick base at some point, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Alec nodded, "and with all that stuff they've been smuggling, why should we wait for them to make use of it?"  
  
"It would make sense," Rykov agreed slowly. "But then, nothing really does make sense. Don't they have to get a green light from the Megacity Army?"  
  
"Yep," Alec said with a sigh. "So it'll be quite a while before anything actually comes of it." Alec paused for a few seconds and then crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in finality. "But of course, we might not be planning anything at the moment, and since there's no way to find out without Big Boss Signas telling us, we oughta just have fun while we can."  
  
"You mean to say that blasting that Maverick fortress into oblivion isn't fun?" Rykov queried innocently.  
  
"Yep," Alec replied with a knowing smile. "There's that newbie mentality. War Is Fun, that's what we all think. But then we get in the front lines…people shooting at you…comrades dying in bloody heaps…the beady eyes of the enemy boring holes through you right before they take you down…that's when you realize that war isn't fun. War is hell." Alec finished, and held a straight face for exactly five seconds before dissolving into laughter, along with everyone else. "Who the hell am I kidding? There ain't nothing like zooming your Raven over a target and letting a pair of Sidewinders fly, or dogfighting with some aerial Maverick bastard."  
  
"Yeah, but you get to fly around in the air and do it," Krysta pointed out. "We have to do all the hard work."  
  
"Yeah, like throwing bombs around and unloading chain gun ammo at the bad guys!" Rykov bounced up and down like an eager child at Christmas, forcing a laugh even from Scythe, who looked as though he disagreed with most everything that had been said so far.  
  
"Feh, just remember to watch your back and keep your head." Alec tapped himself on the noggin. "Most people who stay cool and calm come back alive."  
  
"'Most'?" Krysta asked warily.  
  
"Well, you can't win them all." Alec cackled and got to his feet. "I'll let you fellas go. I gotta get back to the pad before the Admiral gets after my ass."  
  
"Run fast, Alec!" Rykov chided. "I got no desire to see the Admiral chasing after your ass."  
  
"Yeah, have a nice day to you, too!" Alec grinned and flashed the one- finger-salute before marching off back to the jet hangars.  
  
Laughing, Rykov settled in his seat and yawned gloriously, relaxing as best he could. "People must hear us and think we're all on cheap crack."  
  
"The two of you maybe," Scythe said as he got up. "But I'm the shy, quiet one. No one suspects the shy, quiet one."  
  
Krysta grinned conspiratorially. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But after that stunt with Nightchaser, I think you spoiled that reputation."  
  
"Damn." The gold Reploid waved once. "I'll be off then. Computer lab's beckoning."  
  
"I thought you didn't like those things?" Rykov asked with a tilted head.  
  
"Oh, no, I love computers. I just can never figure out how to use the damn things properly."  
  
"Join the club," Krysta grumped as she waved back. "Catch you later, then."  
  
"Watch your back," Rykov warned. "Wouldn't want Captain Coffee getting you from behind with a crowbar or something."  
  
"I'll be careful."  
  
"So," Rykov said when Scythe disappeared around the corner, "what do you make of this Rumor?"  
  
"Well, it is gonna happen." Krysta brushed a lock of silver hair out of her face. "But really, how hard can it be to take down one castle? The Mavericks have always been much more spread out in the past, and so we had to use all our assets. This'll be the shortest war in history."  
  
"Maybe, maybe not…but here's hoping." Rykov frowned and closed his eyes. "I have this feeling that the Mavericks aren't gonna go down easy. I mean, they never do, but something else is there this time…guess I'll just have to wait and see."  
  
____________________  
  
"Hey, you laggards! Get back to work!"  
  
"Yes sir! Right away, sir!"  
  
"That's what you said last time! I don't want to catch you slacking again, you hear me?"  
  
"We hear you! God, what a shitmonkey…"  
  
"Ha ha!"  
  
"Stop laughing, start working!" The supervisor shook his head and left his two newest and most useless employees after scolding them a third time for sitting around when they were supposed to be patrolling the landfill. It wasn't that hard of a job, and so the supervisor tended to get a little pissed when employees were too lazy to do even that.  
  
"I say again, he is a shitmonkey!" Pierre the skunk spat on the dusty ground as he restarted his long, boring patrol of the landfill perimeter. "Does he have any notion of how boring this is? Like something is going to happen! It's a damned landfill, for alcohol's sake!"  
  
"You never know!" Ludwig the gorilla pointed out, lumbering behind his eternal companion. "There might be some kind of big attack when we least expect it!" Ludwig tended to get too into these things.  
  
"Yeah," Pierre said with a snort, "I can see the headlines now. 'Incredibly Sinister Superterrorists Waste Great Amounts Of Money And Resources To Infiltrate The Megacity 5 Landfill XRE, Accomplishing Nothing Except Breaking A Fence And Stubbing A Toe'." The skunk waved his arm to take in the whole of the gigantic, dirt-covered landfill. "It's just a garbage dump, Ludwig! Why would anyone want to waste their time raiding it?"  
  
"Oh yeah?" Ludwig puffed out his chest, confident that he was on to something. "Well if it's just a dumb garbage dump, why are the humans spending so much effort guarding it?"  
  
For the first time in his memory—which probably wasn't as complete as it should have been, since Pierre consumed large quantities of Reploid booze and was prone to many blackouts—the skunk had nothing to counter the gorilla with. "Well…er…well who knows how these crazy humans think! Maybe they're emotionally attached to this landfill, or something."  
  
"Or maybe…" Ludwig's eyes went wide as he indulged in his daydreams. "Maybe, there's a great, big, secret—"  
  
"Hey, yeah!" Pierre waved his arms around dramatically, while rolling his eyes at his friend's childish notion. "Maybe there's a great, big, secret treasure here that the humans buried ages ago, and now we, Pierre and Ludwig, security personnel extraordinaire, are the only ones who know of it! The future of the human treasure is in OUR HANDS!"  
  
"Isn't it GREAT?" Ludwig exclaimed, bouncing with excitement.  
  
"I think I might hit you." Pierre rubbed his temple. Ludwig was all right most of the time, but other times he was just a big moron. They continued on towards the southern border of the landfill, and Ludwig, who apparently had not heard Pierre's threat, kept going on and on about the things he'd do with a human treasure.  
  
Pierre frowned and wondered again how he'd gotten into this mess. Ah yes, booze. The skunk and the gorilla had finally gotten themselves kicked out of every low class bar in Megacity 5, and so now they were being forced to raise their standards and go to better bars. Unfortunately this meant that they needed more money, and they were generally dirt poor, so Pierre had lined up this job for them. It had seemed easy at first; just walk around a big square area and get paid for it. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that guarding Megacity Landfill XRE would be so mind numbingly boring. But, he knew it would be worth it in the end.  
  
"My god, Pierre!" Ludwig was ranting. "Think of it! A treasure! You know how many pixie sticks I could buy with a treasure?!"  
  
"THERE IS NO TREASURE!" Pierre all but bellowed, silencing Ludwig. They were still walking, and immediately after Pierre had spoken he tripped on something and fell to the ground.  
  
"Ohhhh my god," Ludwig gasped, pointing with a trembling hand. "You…I think you found the treasure!"  
  
"What the hell makes you think that?" Pierre snapped, though a bit of anticipation was creeping through him.  
  
"Just look!" Ludwig insisted. "You never know, man!"  
  
Fingers shaking, Pierre reached to the object that had tripped him. What if Ludwig was right? What if this was the secret key to some buried human treasure? He took hold of the item and brought it into the light…  
  
"OH MY GOD!" Ludwig squealed like a girl. "It's…it's…A PEPSI CAN! Dude, Pierre, you found an old fashioned Pepsi can!!!"  
  
Pierre almost choked. When the hell would he learn never to get his hopes up around Ludwig?  
  
The gorilla snatched the can out of Pierre's grasp and began appraising it like it was some rare gem. "Man, this is genuine! I bet if I found a collector…you know how much money I could make off this?"  
  
"No," Pierre grunted as he got back to his feet. "Why don't you tell me?"  
  
"TWO DOLLARS!" Ludwig beamed. "I love this job! This job is great! This job is—HEY LOOK OVER THERE!" And then he was gone.  
  
Pierre began a curse, but stopped when Ludwig dashed off. He chose a new one, uttered it, and began after his comrade, screaming for him to slow the hell down, but to no avail. Ludwig finally stopped over what appeared to be nothing but dusty ground, but he was pointing at it enthusiastically.  
  
"What?" Pierre asked testily. "What is it?"  
  
"Look, man!" Ludwig said with huge eyes. "Don't you see it?!"  
  
"See what?"  
  
"Look! The color!"  
  
"Yeah, it's grungy and brown, like the rest of this place."  
  
"No! Not like the rest of this place!" Ludwig straightened and tried to sound composed and intelligent. "Most of the ground in this landfill is light brown. But this ground is a real dark brown. You know what that means, man?!"  
  
"It rained?" Pierre asked as innocently as he could, trying not to snicker.  
  
"No!" Ludwig said sternly. "If it were rain, the rest of this place would be dark brown too!"  
  
"So, Dr. Ludwig, what does this mean?"  
  
"What else? This ground was dug up, and the dirt was repacked, so it's darker than the other dirt cause it was stirred recently!"  
  
Pierre chose to ignore the fact that what Ludwig said was scientifically correct for a change, and went straight to his riposte. "Yeah, Ludwig. I got news for you: this is a landfill. People dig holes and put stuff in them. You're staring at one of these holes. Gasp!"  
  
"You just don't get it!" Ludwig responded, rolling his eyes. "Someone ELSE dug this hole to get something OUT of it! Someone beat us to our treasure!"  
  
At this point Pierre fell over. "Will you STOP with the treasure crap?"  
  
"But it's true!" Ludwig pouted. "Why else would the humans want this place guarded like this?"  
  
"Fine, Ludwig…" Pierre got to his feet and dusted himself off. "What then, do you suggest we do about it?"  
  
"Tell on them, of course!"  
  
"…"  
  
"Oh come on! It'll prove to the supervisor man that we were being vig- ..er…vigi…vigil…"  
  
"Vigilant?"  
  
"Yeah! That V-word!"  
  
Pierre sighed. "Fine. Let's head back and complain, then…but let me do the talking. I think he might fire us if you start ranting about 'your treasure'."  
  
"Well it is…" Ludwig insisted with a firm certainty. The two began marching back to the landfill entrance, and Pierre did notice things he hadn't noticed before. For instance, there were armed guards with the Megacity Army insignia prowling around the outer perimeter of the landfill. Why Megacity Army? Why not just hire more security guards? Maybe there was some treasure here…and they were about to go let the supervisor know about it? Where was the sanity in that?  
  
"Snap out of it, Pierre!" he hissed at himself. "Remember, don't get your hopes up about anything Ludwig introduced to you. Just get your paycheck, go home, and hit a bar…and if Ludwig gets you in trouble with the supervisor, the next Pixie Stick you buy gets jammed into his optics." 


	21. End of Innocence

1 Chapter Twenty: End of Innocence  
  
Night settled over Hunter Headquarters, bringing with it a special type of calm. Now that the Blackstar mission had finally blown over, those involved could begin to relax for the first time in a good while. Soldiers and commanders alike stretched out their legs in the lounge and discussed things other than combat. For most of the Hunters, nothing had changed throughout all this time, since only a few soldiers had been sent out after Blackstar 5041, and the only other people affected by the mission were friends of the wounded.  
  
As far as lounging commanders, Zero and Mason were no exceptions. They sat not in the lounge, but on the balcony of Zero's private barrack. Hunters were garrisoned at the Headquarters building, which was a giant hexagonal complex with several extensions such as garages, laboratories, and the barracks themselves. Zero's dwellings overlooked the rather beautiful garden at the west end of the complex. The garden was composed of five rings of varying types of flowers, trees, and shrubs all growing around a central fountain. The fountain had a large ivory sculpture of an eagle resting his wings while perched atop a waterfall—from which the fountain's water flowed—centered in a pool of about fifteen feet in diameter. The groundskeepers made sure the water was always crystal clear, and the work they put into the garden was some of the most tedious labor that went on inside Hunter HQ.  
  
It was worth it, Zero had said many times to himself. The garden seemed a bit too peaceful to be part of a military base, but then, they weren't really a military, were they? They were an organized collection of mercenaries, in truth. They were salaried to go out in packs and take care of renegade Reploids, and sometimes to handle local disputes…"police work" as several Hunters acidly called it. If the Megacity System ever went to war with another system, the armies from each Megacity would merge and do the fighting. Since the Hunters were in no way affiliated with the Megacity Army, they were not officially an army, and they made the most of it, installing such un-military things as the garden. In truth, it was the real "lounge" of the Headquarters. Many a man or woman could always be found taking part in the peace that the place offered, whether they were relaxing on one of the benches scattered throughout the garden reading a book or simply listening to the sound of the water flowing from the falls. It was a serene corner of a most un-serene world, and while everyone who entered it knew that the peace was temporary and not really complete, they still found solace from their troubles inside it for however brief a time it was. Zero had used his rank and position to secure one of the barracks with balconies overlooking the garden, and while he hated admitting it, the Great Zero often needed to bask in the simple calm of the garden, especially when he had a lot on his mind.  
  
And I certainly have a lot on my mind, the crimson Hunter thought as he sipped from the clear glass of wine in his hands and set the crystal container down on the table next to his chair. The alcohol in the wine had no effect on his systems, and he and Mason only drank it because they both enjoyed the taste. Their human creators had labored hard to give the Reploids as many human tendencies as they could come up with, and some nutter had had enough free time on his hands to develop a way for Reploids to get drunk. Since Reploids could consume liquids ingested by humans to convert to generator energy, this scientist had developed a light mixture of flavoring and a new liquid element called dendrydium. The dendrydium found its way to the Reploid's CPU and dulled the systems and senses in order to reach the surreal feeling of drunkenness. There was no hangover afterwards, but there was still a catch: if you dulled the senses too much, they would of course inevitably shut down completely. So, a Reploid had to watch how much they drank, just like a human, or else "alcohol poisoning" would get them, too.  
  
Neither Zero nor Mason had any desire to get drunk, and so they had opened a bottle of wine from Mason's private stash. Few Reploids actually liked the taste of wine—they didn't mind beer, because like their dendrydium solution, beer didn't have any definable taste other than "bitter"—but these two were exceptions. The crystal goblets were Zero's. He didn't have many things like that laying around his living quarters, but he'd picked up the set while on duty in Megacity 12—London—and had decided to keep them around. He tended to like shiny things, and though mostly he looked for shiny armor, old-fashioned swords, and so forth, he did occasionally pick up something different. Besides, he knew, at least I can play the "good host" role when the damned inspectors come to check us out.  
  
"I envy you this room," Mason said finally, after staring down at the flowing fountain beneath them. The air was cool, and neither man was in any armor. It really was amazing how much a Reploid looked like a human when dressed down. Zero wore a loose fitting shirt and a well-worn pair of khaki pants; Mason, always somewhat stricter in attire, stuck to a blue officer's coat and a white shirt underneath, as well as neat black pants. He'd been born and raised as a combat officer, and planned on living up to that image fully. He was just like Colonel.  
  
Pushing his old friend from his mind, Zero broke his gaze at the garden below to smile in Mason's direction. "Rank hath its privileges, Mace."  
  
Mason chuckled and nodded his head slowly, but not slow enough to stop his lengthy, thin black hair from catching the breeze and fluttering slowly to the right of his person. For all his care for proper attire, Mason had for some reason never bothered to trim his hair to the traditional military buzz cut. "Probably, there won't be many more nights like this…"  
  
Zero raised his eyes to the sky. The moon was a little less than half full, but it was scarcely seen anyway due to the sufficient cloud cover. At least it wasn't raining. "It should have been done already."  
  
Mason sat still for several seconds, staring back down at the fountain. He finally responded, but didn't avert his eyes from the clear pool of water below them. "You know better than that, my friend. It should have been considered, yes, but not done." He shook his head in a resigned manner. "We can never act in time."  
  
The two were silent once more. Again, it was Zero who broke the silence. "Seems pretty dumb, doesn't it? I mean, we've known about Seraph Castle for almost two months. It's just been sitting there, and we haven't even considered an attack on it." He gripped the glass of wine to his right and raised it to his lips, but he didn't drink from it. "We just wait, wait until the Mavericks make the first move. Remember what the first move was last time?"  
  
Both men spoke in even tones, not letting much emotion fill their words. Mason continued on in this manner. "Sky Lagoon was unfortunate, Zero, but probably unpreventable. How were we supposed to make the first move? We had no one to move against. Repliforce was not our enemy until after Sky Lagoon fell on the city below it." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "But I know how you feel."  
  
"There's been a major battle at the quarry," Zero said at length.  
  
"Which we began," Mason pointed out. "It was our move, not theirs."  
  
"There's been a battle in Steel Alley…"  
  
"Isolated incident, and not a single Hunter was killed. That's not going to attract any special attention."  
  
"Who knows what they're doing in that castle?" Zero finally got to the heart of the matter. "They could be assembling some death weapon—hell, they probably are assembling some death weapon—and we're just sitting here and letting them do it." He set down the glass and punched his left fist into his right hand. "Dammit, Mason, we could overtake that castle in a day!"  
  
"Probably," Mason agreed. "Probably. But to do that, we'd need Megacity Army vehicles and infantry in addition to our own forces. And to get that permit…"  
  
"'If the government is going to send these brave people out to fight and die,'", Zero quoted the Megacity Army rhetoric verbatim, "'then there must be clear and sufficient cause for alarm. Lives cannot be cast away easily.'"  
  
"It sucks," Mason said, sipping his wine. "But that's the way it goes."  
  
"How are we on building a case?" Zero asked as he stretched out his legs a bit.  
  
"Not so good," Mason admitted, leaning back and shutting his eyes. "We can prove that they were smuggling things, but Mavericks always smuggle things. We can prove that the troops are highly trained and that there is a definite leadership among the enemy, but no one will care, because…"  
  
"Because it's not Sigma," Zero thought glumly. For once, things would be easier if he were alive. Damn.  
  
"Right. Sigma goes down and people automatically think they're out of the woods." Mason took a long drink and set the empty glass down. "Civilians are idiots."  
  
"We can't urge them to consider the fact that taking down Seraph Castle now could prevent a bigger problem in the future?"  
  
Mason's eyes opened slowly and he smiled. "What do you think?" Zero sighed and sank back into his chair, and Mason continued in a more subdued tone. "If something is happening in the Catskills, it's unimportant. The Mavericks don't have the numbers to launch a major attack. If they're planning some one shot deal, then big deal; it can't be that bad, and once they've used up that trump card we'll just sweep them clean like we always do. That's what they'll say."  
  
Zero snorted. "Sigma only had but twenty men under his command in the last war, and yet they started the fall of the most destructive chain of dominoes in history. 'They don't have the numbers', my ass."  
  
"True. Honestly, though, I'm not immediately worried about an attack from Seraph Castle, either."  
  
Zero tilted his head and stared knowingly at his old friend. "You believe that they're just going to use that place to regroup, and rebuild their army."  
  
"Yeah. If I were the new Maverick leader, I would know full well that I didn't stand a chance yet against the Hunters. It may be years before I ever even considered launching a major attack." Mason grinned without humor. "And why not? I'd certainly have the time. So long as I behaved until that dreadful day, the humans wouldn't do anything about me."  
  
Zero's smile was equally mirthless, and he drained his own glass of wine while he mulled over Mason's hypothesis. It made great sense, except… "If that's the case, there's still one thing that doesn't click."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Zero sat a little straighter in his chair, staring again at the moon, which was peeking out of the clouds more so than usual. "Why here?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"If you were going to rebuild an army…why would you choose to do it in Megacity 5? Why would you choose to do it right next door to your rival? We have the largest, most important Hunter base in the world right here. How could any group of Mavericks think that they would be allowed to grow much larger here of all places, without being extinguished first?"  
  
"Arrogance, perhaps," Mason offered, though he knew Zero had found a major fault in his hypothesis. "But yes, arrogance only goes so far, and arrogance to that level would be stupid…and this new Maverick leader has proven that he is far from stupid. The only reason I'd make a base this close to this Headquarters would be…"  
  
"To attack us," Zero finished slowly. "But with what? Doppler tried with a whole fleet of attack choppers and failed. Storm Owl's air force never even made it close. What could those Mavericks have in tiny Seraph Castle that they think would do what superior numbers and superior firepower failed to do?"  
  
"Who knows?" Mason said quietly. "Perhaps they aren't planning a regroup or an attack. Perhaps they aren't as smart as we expected. Perhaps this was just a loose colony of Mavericks that Sigma happened to escape to first. Perhaps there's another larger base somewhere in the world where the next master plan is brewing." Mason closed his eyes again, resting his head on the comfortable chair's backrest. "As usual, we won't know for sure until they take that first step."  
  
Silence reigned once more. Both soldiers were more than a little troubled by the realizations they had come to that night, and the insult to the injury was that they could not do anything about it. They had to wait for the Megacity Army to decide that the threat was great enough to devote troops and lives to a war effort, however short that war promised to be.  
  
Zero broke the silence one last time. "It's a scary feeling."  
  
"Very," Mason agreed immediately. Fear was nothing to be ashamed of, not for these two when they were together. They were officers—brothers, in a sense. They had seen and done things that normal men could never have seen, done, or even imagined. Fear was natural sometimes, especially here, since the "feeling" they referred to was one that could not be described. "It's like a bad vibe is surrounding this whole mess."  
  
"Something really is going to happen, and soon." Zero said what the "vibe" told him to say. He had no evidence; he just knew it. "And I have a feeling it won't be any kind of 'regrouping', either."  
  
Mason departed fifteen minutes later, jesting that the wine was getting to his head. Zero walked out to the balcony after seeing his comrade off and closed the doors leading outside, but he lingered at the sight of the garden before completing his task. He was tired, but suddenly sleep seemed unnecessary. The garden was beckoning him. The peace he had just by being above the garden wasn't enough; he had to actually go down there and collect his thoughts. His thoughts…they were coming rapidly now, and he cursed them for it. While he'd been talking to Mason, Zero had been able to focus on one problem, but now all the others came flooding back inside of his mind. The garden was deserted, as it was rather late now, and Zero had a perfect opportunity to just sit and think. Still, he wasn't sure he wanted to dwell on some of the things in his head. They were easier to ignore, and he was afraid that thinking about them would force him to admit truths that he didn't want to admit: truths about human-Reploid relationships, truths about his own life, truths about the Hunter organization, and all kinds of things he figured he'd do well to stay away from.  
  
In the end, what decided him was something Mason had said not twenty minutes earlier: "If I were the new Maverick leader…"  
  
"If I were the new Maverick leader," Zero whispered to himself, knowing full well whom the new Maverick leader or leaders had to be, "I would do everything in my power to bring the Hunters to their knees, and I wouldn't let anything at all get in my way. Not after what they'd done to me." And that was not a thought he could sleep on. He left his quarters and covered the short distance to the staircase with slow, deliberate strides, thinking already.  
  
The Mavericks would, as usual, get the first move. The first move was always something very confusing and devastating. He remembered the very first move, when Death Rogumer had flown away from the then-small Hunter HQ building and destroyed everything on its route to the construction site where Sigma was assembling his floating palace. Technically, that hadn't really been the first move, but only Zero really remembered that. There was another who was there with him, and who would remember, but it was not something either of them wanted to dwell on.  
  
He was in the garden now. He passed row after row of beautifully arranged flowers and shrubberies and made his way directly to the fountain. He sat on the marble lip of the pool, twisting his body halfway around to stare down at the clear, rippling water. He couldn't cleanse his mind with this new image, though. The plants had already placed him back in that forest, back at that time, back when innocence ended for him and the war had really begun.  
  
Damn. This wasn't what he'd wanted to think about, but he had no choice now. His mind was already replaying the actions, and the undisturbed peace that loomed through the garden actually worked against its lone occupant, offering him no distraction. He was a prisoner of his mind.  
  
It was supposed to be a routine mission, Zero remembered. Explore the Yates Forest outside the Catskills and take care of the crisis that had emerged. Mavericks had taken a family hostage, the intelligence report had stated, and Commander Marne was to take his whole unit in there to make sure that the Mavericks—there weren't supposed to be many of them at all—didn't kill any of their prisoners.  
  
But there were no hostages, and there were more than just a few Mavericks. They'd come out of nowhere, swarming like locusts over the surprised Hunters. Marne had been Zero's first commander, and he had taught the young Reploid a lot about life. Marne had trained Zero exclusively, seeing an opportunity in a Reploid who wanted to avenge the life of his recently murdered friend, and he'd been right on the money. Sigma himself had recommended Zero to Marne, and while Marne suspected that Sigma knew something about the crimson Hunter that he didn't, he respected Sigma's judgment enough to know that Zero would do him well as a member of his unit.  
  
A Maverick gunner had blown Marne's head to bits almost immediately, and the unit was suddenly leaderless. They were all young, under trained, and lacking serious combat experience. For some reason, the Mavericks were highly trained; masked, and well armed…they made mincemeat out of Marne's unit.  
  
The running had been frantic, Zero remembered. He'd never run so far so fast in his life. Everyone was shooting, and everyone was screaming. The Mavericks were shouting barbaric war cries, hunting the Hunters like dogs. The surviving Hunters were trying to flee the forest, and no one knew who was alive or who was dead anymore.  
  
Zero didn't remember the exact moment when he'd united with Gradient and Zion, but they had all arrived at that fateful clearing together. After expressing joy at being alive, they very briefly surveyed the scenario. There knew that there was an exit trail ahead of them, perhaps a half-mile forward, and with the amount of Mavericks in this forest, they had to get moving fast.  
  
Zero sighed at his reflection in the pool of water as the ripples reminded him of the most shocking aspect of that day. They'd each seen it at the same time, the diffusion of colors on a tree that signified the activation or deactivation of a cloaking device. The only thing left to be cloaked was a green head, retracting a long red tongue into its fanged maw, and then vanishing entirely. It had become instantly clear why the Mavericks were so well off—Sting Chameleon was leading them. Sting Chameleon had betrayed the Hunters, and was on a mission to destroy Marne's entire unit. It didn't occur to any of the Hunters then that the entire unit would not have been in the forest were it not for Sigma's order. Sigma had planned this all, but they hadn't known that. They'd still looked to Sigma as their commander and their ally.  
  
Zion had saved all three of them from death. He'd tackled Gradient to the ground and swept Zero's legs out at the same time. All three of them came down just as the tracers from Maverick heavy machine guns had screamed over their heads, destroying all the surrounding trees. Zion was the quick thinker, and while he followed "The Book" exactly and to the point of annoyance, he really was a good soldier and a clever improviser when things got tough.  
  
Gradient wasn't so good at that sort of thing, but once someone told him what to do, nothing stopped him from doing it. The exit to this hell was ahead of them. They could make it. He'd dashed out to the clearing, drawing enemy fire and providing the cover the other two needed to make a run for it. A few Mavericks had entered the clearing then—they'd been lucky. The main force of Sting Chameleon's unit had been off chasing a larger group of Hunters.  
  
It wasn't until this point that Zero had realized that Zion was nursing a nasty leg wound. The martial Hunter didn't let his handicap hinder his performance at all, and he destroyed many a Maverick that came his way. Gradient was shooting with perfect aim, and while Zero certainly did his share, for some reason he had never been able to accept that he'd done just as well as his comrades. Their deeds seemed far more notable than his on that day.  
  
The single worst moment of that day was seeing the ride armor. The exit was so near, but now they had this new menace standing in the way of their newfound hope. Zero knew that Vile, Sigma's favorite lieutenant, had a monster of a ride armor that was reinforced with incredible titanium alloys, making it all but impervious to conventional weapons. Fortunately such projects were remarkably expensive, and there wouldn't be many ride armors at all in the world that were as powerful as Vile's toy.  
  
Still, this ride armor had been quite formidable. It had charged into the clearing and slammed its giant fist into Zion's chest, throwing the Hunter far back into the trees, where he lay in a stunned heap. Its pilot had then turned the battle body against Zero and Gradient.  
  
Ride armors had always been the only enemy that struck real fear in Zero's heart. He knew it was partly because he'd been destroyed once whilst sitting atop one of them, but even before that he'd been intimidated by the big, wide mechas, which resembled a regular body, only with larger legs, a broad barrel chest for a cockpit, and gargantuan fists used for pulverizing dash attacks. The enemy mecha had zoomed towards Gradient, using the propulsion systems installed in its back, and a wild dance had begun. The two Hunters had held off the ride armor for a little while before Zion recovered from his injuries enough to fire off a shot.  
  
Ride armor mechas typically have a reinforced clear shield that slides over the cockpit to protect the rider, but these earlier designs lacked that particular function, and there was nothing to shield the Maverick inside from Zion's shot. Gradient dashed up and leapt towards the mecha, firing at point blank at the rider inside. At the same time, the pilot had been executing a desperate last minute maneuver, turning the ride armor to face Zero. With its pilot suddenly dead, the ride armor didn't finish its turn, and the weight imbalance caused the goliath machine to fall over…right onto Gradient.  
  
The clear fountain water was disturbed by the sudden intrusion of Zero's fist. Gradient had been the first friend he'd ever made, and that armor had crushed his torso. His head and shoulders had emerged pitifully from the wreckage, while his legs lay limp on the other side. Gradient's final attack had ignited the coolant in the dead Maverick's body, and soon the fire spread to the weakened ride armor. Zion had literally been forced to drag Zero away before the mecha exploded, taking Gradient with it to the great beyond.  
  
Yes, they'd escaped, that was true. Yes, they'd been filled with hatred and vengeance when they'd learned that Sigma was behind everything. And yes, they'd hunted Sigma down the same way Sting Chameleon had hunted them, and yes, they'd put an end to his dreams of genocide. But that day would never be erased from Zero's memories, and the loss of Gradient was a wound that would never close. From that day on Zero had done everything in his power to protect whatever other friends he made. That was why, he knew, the deaths of Colonel and Iris had nearly driven him to suicide.  
  
No, he'd never told anyone that part, not even X. Zero sighed, regaining control of himself, concentrating on the constant, tranquil sound of the water crashing down into the fountain. What was he fighting for? He'd asked that question of himself as he'd flown away from the dying Final Weapon. Did all the Reploids turn out to be Mavericks, after all? He'd killed the two people who were as close to him as X was, and it hadn't helped that Sigma had forced him to reexamine his bloody past. Yes, he'd been a Maverick, and had almost killed the Hunter Sigma in an abandoned warehouse. But he'd been defeated and dragged back to the Headquarters, where Sigma insisted that Dr. Cain study him. Cain had immediately taken pity on Zero, for reasons unknown to the Reploid, and had jointly agreed with Sigma to integrate Zero into the Hunter army.  
  
Sigma wanted me to join him when he went Maverick, Zero now knew. He was planning on having my power on his side. It is my "destiny" to work with him, and destroy all the humans.  
  
If that were true, then everything he'd worked for had been a lie. All of his friends were really his enemies. All those he had killed, like Colonel, Iris, and even inadvertently General—X had actually battled General to defeat while Zero had been having his conversation with Sigma—had died for no reason. He would have been a failure. He knew now, after forced self-evaluation and help from X and his other companions, that that was not true. This was his path, the path he had chosen for himself. No "destiny" ruled his life. He had the ability to think and make his own decisions. He was a "Reploid", after all. But at that moment, as he reentered Earth's atmosphere from the blackness of space, he'd been on the verge of ending his life and rejoining Iris and Colonel, and all the others who had gone before him. He knew this was foolish, of course—he was a machine. The concept of an afterlife was absurd for him. But it was surprising how strong the lure of illusion could be to a thoroughly disillusioned Reploid.  
  
"Why did you live?" he asked his reflection in the calming water. He still didn't know that. Perhaps he'd find out in time, but he knew that he couldn't die yet. Something would happen that he alone could handle, and if he killed himself before it happened, then many more would die by his hand, in a sense.  
  
Footsteps broke him out of his thoughts. Someone else was in the garden, and Zero already had a sinking suspicion of who it was. He was right.  
  
"Your hair is wet," Dr. Cain said helpfully.  
  
"Hmph," Zero mumbled, realizing it for the first time. The tips of his long golden ponytail had found their way into the cool water while he was immersed in his thoughts. He wrung the hair in his hands, squeezing out the water and looking up to face Cain. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"  
  
"Very funny, sonny," Cain said with a bit of a sneer. "As I recall, the only time you're up this late is when you're up to something illegal. Am I right?"  
  
Zero forced a grin onto his face. "Those who break the rules would not be wise to tell the chief warden about it."  
  
Cain shook his bald head slowly, fixing Zero with a half smile. "You never change."  
  
"I don't know about that," Zero admitted, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.  
  
Cain didn't take the bait yet, though. "Came out here to get some peace and quiet. I've just been in a meeting with politicians and an angry Caligula."  
  
"Christ," Zero said with a shake of his head, invoking the name of a man who certainly had no bearing over the Reploid people, "how bad was it?"  
  
"Oh, you know," Cain said with a shrug. "Caligula insisted that now was the time to strike. He said the same things we've all been thinking, but the representative from the government said that until a definite plan was drawn up, his peers would probably be skeptical."  
  
"No offense, Cain, but is your race hell bent on self destruction, or what?"  
  
"You have no idea," the old man said with a short bark of a laugh. "I read somewhere that self destruction was in our nature. Perhaps that explains things." He shrugged again. "Or we're just stupid."  
  
Zero did laugh this time. It was quiet until Cain asked the question that he'd hoped Zero would answer unbidden.  
  
"So what brings you to this place at this time of night?"  
  
The Reploid stared back down at the water. There really was no escape, he knew. "Thinking."  
  
Cain surveyed his pupil for a few seconds before speaking, and his tone suggested that he was less than pleased. "You haven't talked to a soul yet, have you?"  
  
"I've been busy," Zero protested weakly, knowing that defense would be torn down immediately.  
  
"Bull," Cain said simply. "You've had plenty of time on your hands. You know X has been worried sick about you?"  
  
"X worries too much." That at least was true. X had a great heart but at times he could seem an awful lot like a mother hen, and that annoyed people.  
  
"I'll give you that," Cain allowed with a tired sigh. "But I'll confess that I've been a little worried, too. Sometimes you have this look on your face, and I've only seen that look once before."  
  
Zero stiffened. He'd never actually come out and told anyone just how messed up he'd been after the fourth uprising, though Cain seemed to know all about it. The old man was extremely good at reading people, and there was no way to hide anything from him. Zero accepted this reluctantly; he had too many things he wanted to hide from people.  
  
"What am I going to say to X?" he said in a voice that was almost a whisper. He was staring down at the pool again, looking at his reflection, knowing that the last of his defenses were crumbling. Should he go any further? Should he finally tell someone the dangerous things that had come out of Mortar's mouth so many days ago? The words came before he could place any restriction on them. "How do I tell him that I hope Sigma never goes away?" Oh well.  
  
Cain's face remained blank, but he didn't wait long before speaking. "You know, words like that can't be spoken lightly. I'm sure you have a nice explanation for them, and I'd sleep a whole lot better if I knew what it was."  
  
No choice now, he knew. He'd more or less told Cain that he wanted Sigma to live, and to carry on his plans forever. If that wasn't a declaration of Maverick allegiance, nothing was. He blessed and cursed his choice of words, figuring they came from the smarter portion of his CPU; he was now forced to elaborate on them, or suffer consequences. He had to get this off his chest now…finally.  
  
"You remember Mea, don't you?" His eyes didn't leave the water. He hated talking about Mea, but he had to start somewhere, didn't he? "Humans killed her."  
  
Cain's head tilted. "Go on."  
  
Zero took a deep breath. "There was an organization led by the Megacity Army that forced Reploids to work for them…slaves, if you will. They were forced to go out and kill powerful Reploids, because if a Reploid got too powerful, well…" He motioned blindly with his left hand. "Just look at Sigma."  
  
Cain tried to keep his voice level, but the tiniest bit of concern seeped into it. "And these people killed Mea?"  
  
Zero tried hard not to choke on the lump growing in his throat. "The humans gave the order, and the man who did it was…well he was a sniper." Cain didn't ask anything else, so Zero stabilized his breathing and tried to focus. It was time to spill everything.  
  
"These assassins were forced to kill in this way for some time. They did fail, however, by letting Sigma go unpunished, and so when he attacked, they disbanded the program. They tried to kill all of the assassins because…well…"  
  
Cain nodded and picked up the slack for his struggling friend. "If the Reploid Hunters knew what the humans had been up to, then they would have all ran off to join Sigma in a heartbeat."  
  
"Yeah," Zero said, very weakly. He would have done the same thing, he knew. He would have gone off and killed the people who'd ordered Mea dead. Destiny averted? "They were hunted down like dogs, but a few of them survived." He proceeded to the heart of the matter. "The sniper who killed Mea escaped. He was at the 12th district quarry, and he was there when the Maverick reinforcements came to help Blackstar 5041. The new leaders of the Mavericks, I think, are these survivors." Enslaved, used, shamed, and eventually forced to flee from people who wanted to brutally murder them…I'd think any survivor of that chaos would be a particularly effective and brutal Maverick commander. Shit.  
  
Cain was thinking the exact same thing. He leaned against the fountain, his face etched with concern. The wise old man realized instantly everything that Zero had come to realize already, and the weight of the secret settled on his chest like a sack of bricks. "Therefore, the Mavericks will be particularly brutal this time around." He frowned. "But there's more, isn't there? Your original statement about Sigma hasn't been explained yet."  
  
"I know…" Zero fidgeted uncomfortably. It was hard for him to admit fear to anyone, and he was lucky in that respect, because there was very little that frightened him as far as battlefield situations or enemies. It was the psychological battles that tended to get the better of him, and he carried the foolish yet common idea in his head that soldiers who had to ask for help in these crucial areas were somehow weaker than other people. But again, his earlier words gave him no choice but to answer, and if there was anyone Zero could trust he figured it would be Cain. And X, he realized suddenly, and not without a pang of guilt.  
  
"Well?" Cain prompted at last, raising his eyebrows briefly.  
  
"It's got nothing to do with the immediate situation…regarding these Mavericks and all." Zero tried to avoid eye contact, staring instead at one of the well-groomed shrubberies near the fountain. "It's the whole conspiracy thing…with the Reploid assassins." He took a deep breath and just said it. "If the humans could do that to the Reploids once, they certainly could do it again, when the wars are over, to make sure that there isn't another Reploid who gets as powerful as Sigma did."  
  
Cain went very quiet, which would have unnerved Zero greatly except for the fact that Cain was showing emotion. His head lowered slightly and he shut his eyes, rubbing his hand on his temple as though it would smooth out the wrinkles in his brain and let him find the right thing to say. At length he looked back up and stared Zero in the eye. "You got this from Mortar, right? That day you interrogated him in the slums?"  
  
A nod. "I didn't say anything in the report. I didn't say anything to anyone, because something like this…even if it's just a rumor, it could…"  
  
"It could blow us out of the water," Cain finished. "If the Reploid Hunters heard it, panic would run rampant. They'd all march off and join the Mavericks, just like…" He paused, and his face looked as it would after he had just tasted a particularly sour grape. "It's just like what the humans of this alleged conspiracy were afraid of. The Hunters would be finished." It was Cain's turn to look at the ground for a while, and when he looked back up at Zero the crimson Hunter thought the doctor of archaeology—he had become the big businessman he was now after he discovered X, the first Reploid, in a capsule on an archaeological dig—looked a little older than he had a minute ago. "I take it you believe what Mortar told you?"  
  
Zero nodded cautiously. "I know, he's a Maverick, and he could very well have dreamed up the story just to spread misinformation and panic among us…but if that were the case, wouldn't he have already told other people?"  
  
"You're asking me?"  
  
"Point." Zero frowned, accepting his dark hypothesis. "He's telling the truth. He has to be. I don't have any evidence, no, and I imagine if there ever were any evidence the leaders of the conspiracy would have erased it by now. But I just…I just know. It's just too plausible."  
  
Cain chewed on that for a while. "I agree," he said weakly. "It is plausible. I am very ashamed to say it, Zero, but it is plausible." The old man frowned inwardly and silently damned his bigoted race. It was because of discrimination and maltreatment that the Maverick Army came to being in the first place, and the cold acts Zero had just described seemed like something that indeed could have happened. Humans wanted to control as much of the world as they could. It made them feel safe. They wanted to control anything that they thought might hurt them, in hopes that they could stop it from becoming a threat. But Cain's race never looked at the big picture, did they? No, the scientist admitted, at least not the ones in power, and even if they did it was only in hindsight. And indeed, if the Megacity 5 government had done something like this once, they might be tempted to do it again.  
  
A new matter of import ferreted its way into Cain's brain. "Thornton and Komanov. Were they involved in this program?"  
  
Zero's face drained of emotion. "Yeah. That's what clinched it for me. Mortar was very satisfied about their deaths. It all made sense then, evidence or no. He didn't name any other names," the Hunter added, anticipating Cain's question before it was asked.  
  
Cain frowned again. This made it all the more plausible. Thornton and Komanov had been killed in particularly brutal ways, and the investigators really could not put a finger on any form of motive. If Mortar had been telling the truth, it all could make simple sense: vengeance. This was a worst-case scenario. Good Reploids like Zero often carried the flak for the bad ones, and while Zero was loyal to his friends, fear could work on anyone. If Zero knew that the humans threatened his life, he'd defect eventually. Who wouldn't? Cain certainly would, if he were in Zero's shoes. Shit…Komanov and Thornton, two high ranking and well respected figures in the Megacity Army. They were human figureheads, and if this was how it really was…what were they, really? Murderers? If humans as well respected as these could do this, what about the less respected ones? Zero must see all humans as villains now.  
  
Cain drew a breath, weighing his words carefully. He wanted to show Zero that these humans were in the minority, that not all humans were like that. He found that the easiest way to do that was to merely state his honest opinion. "You want Sigma to stay alive forever, because as long as he exists, the humans have a reason to keep you Reploid soldiers around, right?"  
  
Zero flinched. "It's…well…" He damned himself for the thought, feeling remarkably guilty. "I know it's selfish. He kills so many people, every time…innocent people…but still, you know…" He motioned weakly, and struggled hard to get out his own honest opinion. "He does provide a sort of insurance for us, yes."  
  
Cain sighed quietly and with a lot of pity. He had never been in a situation like this himself, but he somehow found himself perfectly understanding Zero's fears nonetheless. "Zero, I do not envision a mass Reploid genocide any time soon. I do not even anticipate a repeat of this conspiracy Mortar told you about." He smiled as reassuringly as he could. "You forget that before the wars, Reploids were used to do everything humans couldn't do. You guys are the perfect astronauts. You can mine in areas too hot for humans to enter. Specialized Reploids can even explore the ocean. Your race is just too useful."  
  
Existing solely as a workhorse didn't thrill Zero that much, but at least the doctor was giving him a shard of reasonable hope to latch onto, and latch he did. "I suppose…"  
  
Cain went on, seeing that the truth was actually working. "Look at all the other discrimination cases in history. Eventually, society accepted the discriminated parties, however grudgingly. But it took time." Cain tapped into the deepest reaches of his historical knowledge. "Negroes were enslaved throughout the world, and even when they were for the most part freed they were still discriminated against. They were treated as inferiors and as something less than human…much like the Reploids, except for the human part." Zero nodded his head to indicate that he was still with the doctor, and so he continued confidently. "But eventually equal rights settled in, and though there was still some discrimination, the blacks could be accepted as equals in society, and things were made right that way. It's like that with every race, human and mechanical."  
  
"So you're saying," Zero interpreted, "that when the Mavericks do go down, there will be hard times, but eventually…?"  
  
"Yeah," Cain nodded, telling the Hunter what he needed to hear. "Everyone makes mistakes. It will take a long time to smooth out the wrinkles caused by Sigma's people, but in time…"  
  
There really wasn't much else to say. Both of them stared towards the ground, letting things sink in. Zero mulled over Cain's words and found them sensible, as sensible as anything Mortar had said, and perhaps even more so. The realization that Mortar's proposed future was not the only possible future erased much of the doubt and uncertainty from his mind. He felt peace return to his thoughts, and he was fairly certain that this peace had nothing to do with the garden.  
  
They'd both said their words. The conversation was over, by rights…there was nothing left to say. "How's the war council doing?" Zero asked, looking up with eyes that conveyed silent thanks.  
  
"Sluggish," Cain replied simply, his own eyes conveying their own form of thanks. "I'll check tomorrow morning and see if anything came up during the night."  
  
They both nodded to each other and Zero remained in place until his boss—as a commander, Zero technically only had to consider Signas his boss, but no one disputed Cain's claim to the Hunter agency, Signas included—turned and left the garden. Only when Cain was gone did Zero spin on his heel and walk back to his quarters. He was tired and fairly slow, but he did move with a bit more spring in his step.  
  
For the second time in not so long a while, Zero realized that things might not be so bad after all. 


	22. All In A Day's Work

1 Chapter Twenty-One: All In A Day's Work  
  
Scylla stared in distaste at the apartment building before her. Approaching it had not been overly difficult for the veteran of Unit 17, but the risk was still there. All one of the Mavericks had to do was glance out a window at the wrong time, and the insertion would be blown. After all, it was not hard to spot an advancing army in broad daylight. But of course, it wasn't up to her what time her missions took place.  
  
The Huntress pressed herself to the wall of the gray building and held her active arm cannon against her chest. She glanced to the right and caught Shadin's eye just as the other Huntress moved into position in the alley behind the apartment. Even in daylight, the shadows of the alley combined with Shadin's black armor gave her a natural camouflage there. They wouldn't be staying outside for long, though. Scylla retrieved a gob of putty from the operations kit inside her armor and smeared it onto the door handle. After attaching a rough set of wires and steel pins she made the proper connections and waited for her cue.  
  
One hundred meters away, Commander X stood quietly against the wall inside the temporary command center, which was really a local coffee shop. The 17th had commandeered the place in order to resolve this current conflict, and though the owners were annoyed at the intrusion, X had soothed the savage beast by promising full reparations if the Hunters broke anything. Stingy bastards, he had not said. There are lives at stake!  
  
Brief reports flew into his audio receptors via a combat microphone implanted in his "ear". The Reploid nodded to himself each time one of his unit sergeants spoke up. The Azure Hunter had plenty of good soldiers in his overlarge 17th Unit, and he knew he'd be getting more once the ball got rolling with the Mavericks in Seraph Castle. Those Reploids who had earned his trust and respect were assigned sergeant rank, which meant little in a non-military organization, though it did give them some authority over the other members of X's squad. Those sergeants, Scylla, Shadin, Jasper, and Lariat were the only ones he'd taken along for this mission, and as they entered into position they reported to X via simple code words. "Axe!" "Hammer!" "Scimitar!" "Gauntlet!" All was in order.  
  
"Scramble." X said his only line of the mission, and the action got started.  
  
Scylla sprinted away from the door back in the direction she'd come from, but only briefly. Her finger was already depressing the remote trigger in her hand and the small bomb she'd rigged went off, destroying the door handle and therefore the locking mechanism that sealed it. She dug her heel into the dirt, pivoted sharply, and sprinted like a bullet into the door, busting it open and charging inside with a stun grenade at the ready. They couldn't use ECMs, because they'd hurt themselves in the process, but a flash-bang grenade, on the other hand, is just as effective on a Reploid as it is on a human. Scylla hurled it up into the hallway where, as she'd expected, one of the Mavericks was moving quickly to find out what had just happened. The grenade went off with a blinding flash and a thunderous clap, and it so startled the enemy that he actually dropped his weapon. Scylla didn't wait. Her arm cannon flared twice, and the streaks of plasma collided head on with the target's head. The Huntress didn't miss a beat, and kept moving forward even after her opponent had fallen prostrate in death. It was a shame that she couldn't just take him alive, but he was a Reploid who had taken humans hostage, and therefore he was a Maverick. There was only one solution when dealing with Mavericks.  
  
Scylla allowed a brief sigh of disgust to escape her lips as she passed the body. If humans had taken over this building, it would have been a job for the Megacity Special Forces. The Special Forces soldiers were good, but they were vastly inferior to the 17th Unit, Maverick Hunter Corps. Nevertheless, the 17th was Reploid based, and no Reploid could legally harm a human. She shook her head to clear it. This wasn't the time for such thoughts. This was a time for battle, and therefore there could be only one thing on her mind.  
  
Elsewhere in the building, events were unfolding in much the same way. Lariat the lion knocked the east door of the apartment complex clear off its hinges and entered the building without an enemy in sight, much to his disappointment. Shadin shot out a third floor window just as Jasper attached a grappling cable to the sill, fired from a device fitted into his arm. Jasper quickly ascended to the third floor and Shadin followed via use of her own cable. She arrived in time to see Jasper dispatch the second of two Mavericks who had been looking in every direction but behind them. The two Hunters went their separate ways, sweeping the small upper floor and meeting at the staircase in about ten seconds.  
  
At the same time, Lariat and Scylla were moving up. They met by the staircase at the lower level and ascended speedily. Time was of the essence now. Scylla opened the door and darted out into the hallway just as a Maverick got a sight on her. The frantic rounds from the enemy's lightweight shoulder cannon missed the Huntress for the most part, but one round caught her elbow and the reflex action that traveled instantly though her arm completely threw off her aim. Lariat was more than prepared to help, though. The big Reploid came flying through the door with a speed that belied his size and snapped his right arm out towards the enemy. His metal whip lashed out and coiled around the Maverick's neck, and with a quick jerk Lariat broke the enemy's neck, interrupting communications from the CPU in his head to the rest of his body.  
  
"Thanks," Scylla said simply, getting back to her feet and flexing her arm. This would need attention.  
  
"No prob," Lariat said in his low rumble of a voice, already moving again. No more words were exchanged and both of them sped forward.  
  
Jasper, Shadin, Scylla and Lariat all burst into the largest room in the apartment at the same time. The two Mavericks inside were terribly surprised, but they'd been ready to take action the second they heard the flash-bangs go off downstairs. They'd just needed a minute or so to collect their thoughts and figure out what exactly was going on, and that was the minute the Hunters had needed to get here.  
  
One of the Mavericks already had his arm cannon pointed towards the row of human hostages lined up near a window. Scylla took him out with a double-tap to the head using her customized Vector C assault pistol—the arm cannons were strong, but the spread of the projectile was too great to be used in a room where fragile humans might be in the line of fire. The pistol, though, fired "Armor Renders"—bullets that could travel even through the powerful metal armor worn by a Reploid. It also was more of a mini machine pistol, except for the fact that it only used single or three round bursts. Perhaps it was more of a rifle? It was unique, whatever you called it, and effective. The enemy fell but the other Maverick hadn't been standing idle. A swirling trail of green plasma flew not at the hostages, but at the Hunters themselves. It had been poorly aimed in the attacker's haste, however, and a quick evasive move by Shadin put her out of harm's way. The projectile exploded violently as it hit the wall behind the Hunters just as Shadin discharged a round from her own pistol. Surprisingly, though, the enemy was moving towards the window, where he probably hoped to escape from the Hunters. They might have let him, but the hostages were in the way, and they could take no chances. Jasper darted forward, raised his assault pistol and fired into the Maverick's metal skull in one fluid motion. The final enemy fell and Shadin immediately went to search the hostages for weapons. It seemed foolish enough, since they were all human, but it was procedure, and that was the point of this "exercise", as X called it.  
  
"No other known targets remain active," Scylla reported without being asked.  
  
"Make sure," replied Jasper curtly. Though they were all technically the same rank, Jasper was X's second in command and everyone knew it. Therefore, he tended to lead the 17th when X wasn't around. Nobody hated him for it, since he was quite competent and skilled at his work. Plus, like X, he listened to everything his "underlings" had to say and actually put effort into seeing whether or not their suggestions had merit. That kind of thing generally made an officer popular.  
  
Lariat accompanied Scylla out of the room, using his nose to sniff out any threats, but there were none left. Jasper reported to X that the hostages were secure, and when Lariat and Scylla returned they began the process of escorting the hostages to the safe point.  
  
X met them there. He hadn't expected anything less than full success, really, and it seemed that he had gotten precisely that. Earlier in the week, the Treasury Department of Megacity 5 had killed a movement by the much-oppressed Kato Welders, a group of laborers who had recently been laid off by the bankrupt Kato Corporation. Steel Alley's Engineer Corps leaders had recently had a falling out with Kato, and were being troublesome about allowing the desperate welders to join the Corps. The welders begged the government for some compensation while they tried to work things out, but after the refusal, things looked even more desperate. Sympathetic Steel Alley laborers were already planning a strike to force the Engineer Corps bosses to allow the welders in, but extremists among the welders had decided to take action into their own hands. They'd taken over this apartment building and held the human occupants hostage, demanding that the Engineer Corps allow their comrades in immediately. Perhaps they'd meant to make themselves martyrs. X didn't care. He'd engineered their destruction rather coldly. He could, actually, have pulled some strings to allow the Mavericks to be taken alive, but he was rather ill disposed to them. Because of their rash action the Engineer Corps now had the perfect excuse to keep the other welders out—the government would forbid it. The welders would now all be investigated as Mavericks, and while they'd be cleared in the end, they had a much harder road ahead of them now. It had really been a simple mission, taking these guys out. It should have gone to the less experienced units, who needed the practice, but X had gotten his hands on the paperwork first. He wanted his group to get all the combat experience they could get. After all, there would be a major campaign soon, whether people admitted it or not, and he didn't want his sergeants to be rusty in the area of infiltrations.  
  
After all, the only way to overcome a Maverick Command Base was a covert infiltration by a single agent or a very small elite contingent. Contrary to popular belief, X was not the world's greatest all around soldier. Frankly, X was two things: an infiltrations expert and a duelist. He had infiltrated countless areas occupied by Mavericks and successfully assassinated the area commanders. Time and time again he'd used his skills in stealth and covert attacks to arrive at the door of a Maverick commander's sanctuary, the only place where the enemy felt safe and secure. Once inside X would defeat the enemy every time, simply because of his dueling tactics. His mind was made for that sort of thing. X had the rare ability to learn an enemy's fighting style even as he fought them for the first time, and he would soon be developing countless strategies to exploit his opponent's weaknesses. It was strange, he thought, that his CPU was so combat savvy even though his creator had meant for him to be a pacifist.  
  
"Report."  
  
"Commander X, sir." Jasper stepped up while meeting his commander's eyes. "Hostages are secured, sir. None are injured."  
  
"Casualties?"  
  
"No friendlies, though Scylla did get a scratch."  
  
"Serious?"  
  
"No sir," Scylla piped up. "Nothing that can't wait till we get home."  
  
"Enemy casualties," Jasper went on, "total five. We believe we got them all, and Lariat confirms it."  
  
"Good job, people." X's face softened somewhat. "Now, think you can do it against a castle full of trained Mavericks?"  
  
"No sweat," Lariat rumbled with a grin. He was glad X had exited his "stiff mode". The commander was a good guy, but he got too worked up and high strung whenever there was a big op about to go down. Well, Lariat reasoned, the boss'd seen a lot more carnage than any of them ever would, so maybe he had that right. At least he didn't bitch and scream at his troops like some commanders did when under stress.  
  
"We've got a layout of the castle," Shadin said with a shrug. "How hard can it be to plan an infiltration off of that?"  
  
"Not hard at all," X replied.  
  
"Yeah," Jasper agreed, "planning it's a piece of cake. Executing it, though, will be hard as hell."  
  
"Because," Lariat carried on, "we may have a map of the castle, but they know we have a map, and so they'll be trying to anticipate where we'll come in, and they'll set their really nasty traps there."  
  
"I've trained you well," X said with a grin of his own. He tilted his head upwards a bit, scanning the street ahead of him. "Pickup crew's coming. The hostages will be debriefed and taken to the hospital for a checkup, of course. Time to go home."  
  
"Can we celebrate?" Jasper asked hopefully. "Celebrate" only meant one thing, and intoxicated soldiers, X figured, would be a bad thing for a while.  
  
"For this?" X frowned in feigned distaste. "This was practice and you know it. Really, Jasper, I expect more from my Second!"  
  
Jasper took the mock rebuke in stride. "I'll bullshit better next time, sir. Promise."  
  
"You damn well better!"  
  
But of course, Lariat knew as he followed his comrades to their own transport, this had not been "practice" at all. In a practice session, no one was supposed to die. People had died here—mechanical people, but Lariat thought of his race as people—and that's what made it real. When people died, you weren't playing games anymore. It was his job as a Hunter, he thought, to stop as many deaths as possible, human or Reploid, and that could only be done sometimes by taking the lives of renegades such as the Mavericks. Still, death was death.  
  
If Lariat had possessed any notion of exactly how many people were going to die in the coming weeks, it would have absolutely floored the feline giant.  
  
_____________________  
  
Squid Adler was a career Hunter, but he was finding that he liked his job less and less. The relatively short blue mollusk Reploid did very little in the way of actual combat. Rather, he often assisted Douglas, the chief mechanic, in powering heavy machinery. He was innately equipped with powerful fusion generators that gave him access to quite a store of electric power, and that skill was very useful during construction projects. In direct contrast, he was also an interrogator. It seemed a terribly strange pairing of specialties, but Adler was good at both, and while he was becoming more and more disillusioned with both functions, he always did his job well. He had never actually tortured a confession out of someone, though his electricity tactics could certainly do the job. He found torture to be barbaric, actually, and the intellectual Reploid would rather just ask questions in his own calm, collected manner.  
  
The humanoid sitting in the chair before him, however, had just about dried up all of the aquatic Reploid's patience. The manager of the Steel Alley train station had been kept here for a few weeks now, and he was getting very pissed about it. His claim that his station had been taken over by Mavericks was bogus, of course, but the Hunters had no way to prove that, and Steel Alley was getting very angry about the captivity of one of its premier figures.  
  
"How much longer are you gonna piss away your time like this, fish boy?" Cartwright's attitude was scathing as ever.  
  
"We've got plenty of evidence against you, Cartwright," Adler replied patiently. "It won't be that hard to convict you of assisting the Mavericks."  
  
"Why would I assist the guys who hijacked my station?" Cartwright played his part well, much to Adler's distaste.  
  
"You can't hold out forever." Actually, he probably could. He'd been holding out like this for a long time. Cartwright knew he had a secure defense and he was sticking to it. Adler had on several occasions infuriated Cartwright in hopes that the station manager would let something incriminating slip while in a rage, but so far there had been no luck in that area.  
  
"If you had something on me," Cartwright began again for the fifth time that day, "you would have already burned me with it. The only reason I've been stuck here for two weeks is because you're stalling. You ain't got nothing, and you know it." He leaned back confidently. "The boys down at the Alley know I'm innocent. You're just in need of a scapegoat to cover up your foul up with the train mission. It won't be me, pal. Take it out on the real culprits…the Mavericks themselves."  
  
Such a simple mind, Adler thought, but simple minds are good at the whole broken record thing. "What did you smuggle for them?"  
  
"Nothing! For Pete's sake, man! Get it through your giant blue head! They stole that stuff!"  
  
"What was in it?"  
  
"Cargo!" He was getting really pissed now. "Steel, wood, fuel, some energen we were keeping in storage for the Corps, all kinds of junk! They raided us, dumbass. When raiders come, they tend to, oh I don't know, raid."  
  
Adler could not stop himself from grunting in frustration. Indeed, Steel Alley was raising quite a stink about this, and fully supported Cartwright's claim of innocence. He'd tried for the whole week to get this man to slip up, but nothing would come out. He was not about to use his electricity over something so trivial as smuggled firearms—which was probably all it was, anyway—but he still hated to see Cartwright go free. Didn't Intel have anything else to charge this guy with?  
  
The rest of the "interview" was just as unproductive as the early stages. Adler got up and left after another ten minutes of futile questioning. He joined the human waiting for him in the hall, leaving Cartwright to twiddle his thumbs.  
  
"Still nothing?" asked Kevin Seitz.  
  
Adler's face told him all he needed to know. "We got nothing to keep him on and he knows it." The squid gave the semblance of a frown. "And I guess your presence here isn't just for show?"  
  
Caligula's protégé frowned an affirmative. "We're out of maneuvering room with him."  
  
"Completely?"  
  
"Yeah…" Seitz growled. "He's gonna walk."  
  
Adler glowered. "There's nothing in the past that you can nail him with? I thought you'd caught him smuggling before."  
  
"In the past," Seitz said with a sigh. "And even if we could charge him with something else, the Engineer Corps is raising political hell, and we're gonna need Steel Alley's help if we wanna wage a campaign against ECLIPSE." ECLIPSE was the code word for Seraph Castle.  
  
"So…he gets to go free after aiding a Maverick smuggling op." It wasn't that Adler cared so much about the actual crime. It was more that over the past two weeks, he'd developed an unfriendly rivalry with Cartwright, and letting the enemy win after all this time and effort annoyed the aquatic Hunter significantly. But, he reasoned, it had happened before and would happen again, so why worry too much about this particular case?  
  
"Thanks for your effort," Seitz said. It sounded lame even to him.  
  
Adler bowed slightly, for he really didn't have a neck to nod with, being patterned after a squid. "You win some, you lose some. What do you think this guy could have been smuggling?"  
  
"Probably just what he said in there," Seitz said with a shrug. "The point is, during a Red Climate, you don't mess with the Hunters if you know what's good for you. It's nothing more than a lightly applied version of martial law, but unless armed guards patrol the streets, nobody pays any attention." The human waved angrily in the direction of Cartwright's confines. "This isn't the first time that guy's dicked with us. It'd be real nice to take him out of the running here and now, but we can't quite do that."  
  
"I still haven't been able to get anything out from him about the other matter."  
  
Seitz nodded slowly. The "other matter" involved unconfirmed but probably correct reports that Cartwright and his entire station crew had sold out to Kou Cao, the so-called "Gold Serpent". Law enforcement agencies throughout Megacity 5, including the Intelligence branch of the Hunters themselves, had spent years trying to root out the Serpent's high-ranking troops and destabilize his "empire". Anyone involved with the Gold Serpent was a definite target for interrogation, but when your hands were tied like this…what could be done?  
  
"I have to brief Cal," Seitz said at last. "You're done here, I think. We'll send his ass back home within the next few days."  
  
Adler performed his "nod" once more. "I imagine you have a lot on your mind."  
  
"You don't know the half of it," the human replied with a weak smile. "A big castle sitting right in our line of vision, and still we have little to no intel…" He shook his head and bade farewell to his Reploid companion. Adler marched slowly back to his desk, fuming quietly over a battle lost, and the SiC of Hunter Intelligence headed back to his own office. He scooped a pile of papers off his desk and was admitted immediately to see Caligula.  
  
The office of the Hunter Intelligence Chief was not very large at all, as the man himself spent most of his time out of office flying from one location to another, getting data and leaving it to the technicians to sort out. Caligula was quite potent with computers, but he still eschewed doing computer recon. It was too easily monitored anyway, he often said, and in this day in age the Hunters should have the technology available to provide a better mode of communicating with field agents.  
  
The small office seemed considerably smaller to Seitz this time, because several other people were in it. It was quite a notable bunch, the human noted, and he immediately wondered whether or not he should hold off on his briefing.  
  
Caligula glanced up from his desk when his underling entered and motioned for him to remain. Seitz leaned against a wall, as none of the few chairs were currently available, and waited his turn.  
  
Sitting near the back of the room was Tiberius, the head of the Medical Ward. Near him was Douglas, the short, stocky green Reploid in charge of Research and Development. Signas himself occupied the final chair, the one closest to Caligula's desk. This was a surprise. If Signas, the Grand Commander of the Maverick Hunters, wanted to call a meeting, it would make more sense to hold it in his own spacious office, would it not? Oh well, best not to meddle in the affairs of officers.  
  
Speaking of officers… Seitz looked across the room to acknowledge the other foreign presence. He was a Reploid decked out in a suit of light green armor. The armor was light on the arms and legs, allowing for nimble sudden movements, and heavy atop the shoulders and around the chest. It was a well-balanced defense for a well-balanced soldier…the Hunter called Zion. Seitz didn't know Zion all that well, but that was probably because the soldier was a Unit Commander, rather than a chief like Caligula and Tiberius. Signas himself technically ran all the operational maneuvers the Hunters engaged in, but Zion was his close advisor, and many considered him the undeclared Chief of Operations. They could have done worse, Seitz decided. Zion was reputed for possessing a quick mind and was one of the best tacticians the Hunters had with them. He was always level headed and a tad emotionless, and as such he had little in the way of good friends. Zion was one of those Hunters who put the mission ahead of everything else. He would never leave a man behind, and would never take any unnecessary risks, but whenever there was a substantial chance of success during a mission Zion would take that chance and do all he could to make sure things worked out. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, and Zion's Unit 20 rarely suffered many casualties when they went to battle. Seitz supposed that whatever campaign the Hunters might launch against Seraph Castle, Zion would have a large part in planning it, which probably explained why he was here in this room now.  
  
"Good afternoon, Kevin," Signas said politely. He was big Reploid with a massive suit of armor that was fashioned to resemble a navy blue general's coat, complete with green gems down the centerline to form the "buttons". No one had ever seen Signas let himself get into a hostile situation, but despite rumors that Signas's brains far outweighed his brawn, it wasn't hard to imagine the Grand Commander beating the holy hell out of someone who made any move to strike him.  
  
"Same to you all, sirs," Seitz said with a nod, and tried hard to blend in with the wall. The faster the meeting proceeded, the better, and Kevin waited for the chiefs to pick up where they'd left off.  
  
It seemed, though, that Seitz had entered during a dull moment. Caligula looked up at his protégé and his gaze wavered from the human to the Grand Commander. Signas nodded once and Caligula relaxed somewhat. "Get comfortable, Kevin," said the boss of the Invisible Men. "What do you have for us?"  
  
Seitz blinked, having not expected his turn to come right away. He still knew better than to drag the brief on any longer than he had to, and so he skipped to what he deemed to be the important parts. There really wasn't much to report, other than Cartwright and…  
  
"Well, sirs," Seitz began, "uh, I don't have much of great import. Firstly, that Cartwright guy didn't tell us squat."  
  
"Figures," Signas interjected with a frustrated shake of his head. "We finally get a guy with ties to Kou Cao and we gotta let him go."  
  
"You're sure of that connection?" Douglas piped up from the back of the room. He and Signas went way, way back, and the concept of "rank" didn't really exist between the two, and so Douglas repeatedly neglected to tack a "sir" onto his statements to Signas. His boss couldn't care less, and so it was always a tragedy averted. Douglas was also quite interested in Kou Cao's activities. The Serpent was the suspected of several item theft escapades at Hunter HQ, and Douglas didn't like it when people stole his tools.  
  
"Sure as sure can be," Seitz replied for Signas, hoping he wasn't out of line. It was his department, though… Signas didn't seem to care at any rate, so Seitz went on. That was a nice thing about Signas—he considered himself less important than the heroes X and Zero, and the fact that he outranked them bugged him more than a little. Therefore he tended to be remarkably lenient and easygoing for the general he was supposed to be. "I mean, the data is all gathered on past intel reports that legally should never have happened in the first place, but…"  
  
"Since when have we cared about legalities?" Caligula traded a smirk with Signas about some inside secret. Signas lowered his head to hide his own smirk. Seitz was deathly curious but forced himself to go on.  
  
"We can't use it publicly against him, so we have no evidence."  
  
"Damned shame," Douglas piped up again.  
  
"Release date?" Caligula queried.  
  
"Two days tops," Seitz replied. "I imagine we'll want to keep a close eye on him from now on…?"  
  
"Bet your ass we do," Caligula grumped back. "He may be a free man, but he'll never even be able to brush his teeth the wrong way without us knowing." Everyone present overlooked the fact that Reploids had little need to brush their teeth.  
  
"The memory chips we pulled from the Mavericks at Cartwright's station," Seitz went on with his report, "haven't really told us much. We have more refined maps of Seraph Castle—locations of some machine gun encampments, where some security traps are located, stuff like that—but otherwise no clear intelligence as to what the new Maverick leader is up to."  
  
"What do we know about the Maverick leader?" It was the first time Zion had ever spoken to Seitz. His voice was hardly unpleasant, but it carried a certain air with it that compelled Seitz to answer right away. It really wasn't hard to see why this guy was such a good commander. Even from his first major battle, the forest ambush led by Sting Chameleon so many years back, Zion had always shown considerable promise.  
  
"The commander's name is Gredam, but his name is all we know. He's one of them Reploids who just sorta sprung up out of nowhere." Seitz wished he knew more, but he really didn't. "There's no official record of him that I can find, and no production certificate from any robotics company we know." Then he did remember something else. "We've also confirmed the existence of at least one sub-commander. Remember when Zero came back from that slum bombing all frazzled? He gave us a name to go with that old Mortar guy's ID—Malevex. How much you wanna bet that that's the guy who made our crimson buddy go crackers at the quarry?"  
  
"Well if he survived a raging Zero," Signas said with a slight chuckle, " I imagine he can hold his own in a fight."  
  
"There was a woman leading the Blackstar assault," Seitz reminded the chiefs, glad that he still had stuff to say. "She could well be another sergeant for Gredam."  
  
"So they've got some kind of organized leadership," Signas summarized. "Still, order or not, you know the history. When Sigma's not around, little to nothing gets done."  
  
Caligula nodded in thought. "Anything else, Kevin?"  
  
"No, sir." Seitz reorganized the files in his hand and made to leave.  
  
"Stick around." The order came from Signas. Well, how did he say no to that? Seitz leaned back on the wall behind him. Zion's face did not betray any emotion, but Seitz bet that the commander was secretly displeased with Seitz's lax appearance.  
  
"The medical ward has increased its staff," Tiberius said without being asked. The tall, thin Reploid was decked out in his usual "smock" which was a thin metal suit of white with red stripes. He was always the quiet one, and this was the first time Seitz had heard him speak at this gathering. "Lifesaver is doing well managing and training the staff, and I think we'll be sufficiently prepared for whatever you all have in mind." He said it somewhat distastefully. Tiberius was a career medic, having served first with the Megacity Army and gradually moving on to his position with the Hunters. He hated when Hunter units went on any expedition that was deemed dangerous, since something always seemed to go wrong and the medical ward was swamped with more than it could handle. The recent quarry battle was a perfect example.  
  
"I don't think things will go quite so badly, Tiberius." Signas turned to look at his comrade. "This is one of those blessed times when we can just pound the opposing base with our air and heavy artillery assets. We won't be relying so much on foot soldiers."  
  
Tiberius nodded very slightly, but he still didn't seem to trust in Signas's assumption. "We've hooked up additional equipment. Any war against the Mavericks always results in more casualties than anticipated, sir." It was his job to be the pessimist, after all.  
  
Signas nodded, knowing Tiberius was right, but not letting the dark thought burrow too far in his mind. "Douglas? How goes LEGO 9?"  
  
Excluding the first uprising, the Hunters had always undertaken a massive buildup in war machines and armaments when preparing to go to battle with the Maverick core leadership. Each buildup was a costly, expensive procedure that took about a month to reach full capacity. Of course, that rarely happened, and the Hunters tended to move a week or two before the program was completed. This was the ninth such mission in the program someone had earlier christened LEGO, after the building blocks of old. LEGO 9 involved the whole R&D department, and so it was Douglas's problem.  
  
"Things are going slower than expected." The green mechanic toyed with the work goggles sloppily positioned on his forehead. "But that's always happened. We've got a buncha light tanks left over, and the Raven jets used by the air unit are more than enough for aerial battles."  
  
Signas gave Douglas a very serious look that said "Are you sure?" very loudly without making a sound. The concern was valid. Throughout all four uprisings, the Maverick Hunters had never, not once, possessed air superiority over the Mavericks. Storm Eagle's Death Rogumer had been the absolute scourge of the early Hunter army, and even when the ship was brought down the Hunters had no airships of their own. The six months leading up to the second uprising had been a time for rebuilding cities, not airships, and so when the X-Hunters began their attack, the Hunters were defenseless in the sky. Dr. Doppler's forces crushed the Hunter HQ early on in the third uprising, and even though the Hunters by then had a significant air force, Doppler's sky army was far more formidable. Storm Owl's unit came next. The platoon of battle ships had razed city after city, and even after Storm Owl's defeat the unit continued to sow chaos until the very end of the war. The Hunters now had the powerful Raven jets, but even they only went so far. If the Mavericks churned out another airship…  
  
"Our new weapons are truly amazing," Douglas promised. "The Ravens are the most powerful birds in the sky, don't worry." He grinned. "Times like now, I wish we hadn't retired the Enigma cannon. As far as the ride armors and the tankers, well, give or take a few weeks."  
  
Signas nodded. It would be at least that long before they got to attack, wouldn't it?  
  
Seitz stood idle for the short remainder of the meeting. Tiberius and Douglas got to their feet and bade farewell, but Signas and Caligula motioned for Zion and Kevin to remain with them afterwards. Well, what was this about?  
  
"Intelligence has something else to say," Caligula stated seriously.  
  
"The Smudge?" Signas evidently knew something Seitz didn't, which pissed the young man off a bit. He was the SiC of Intelligence…why was he being kept out of the loop?  
  
"Yeah, The Smudge." Caligula produced a black and white terrain photo and passed it to Seitz. "Sky spies took that the other day. See this smudge in the corner?" It was a photo of the Catskills, and yes, Seitz could see a smudge.  
  
"Isn't that just…?"  
  
"Seraph Castle?" Caligula smiled and shook his head. "That's north. Not on the photo at all. That smudge there is…well, Signas, it's what we were afraid of."  
  
"UNDINE," Signas breathed. Seitz looked up in curiosity, but Zion merely stepped forward calmly. He already knew about whatever this was.  
  
"Sir," Zion began in his level tone, "it is well within the capabilities of Special Unit 0, or any advanced unit for that matter, to secure the UNDINE site. I've been over this."  
  
"You have," Signas agreed. "But if that is UNDINE…"  
  
"It is," Caligula confirmed sourly.  
  
"Shit…" Signas looked terribly frustrated. "That place was supposed to be destroyed, dammit!" he whispered sharply. "All right, well…Zion, there are things inside UNDINE that are…well, not for Hunter eyes to see."  
  
Zion blinked. "You mean a cover up?"  
  
"Not necessarily," said Caligula, coming to his boss's defense. "The info that probably still remains there is sensitive, but not…well, it's not something that would disgust you, Zion."  
  
Signas knew Caligula would rather not bring anyone else into the loop, but he decided to go ahead anyway. Besides, Seitz was a human and Zion was the model Hunter. The chances of either of them leaking info was next to nil. "The site we call UNDINE was a secret base used by Dr. Doppler during the third uprising."  
  
"So close to the Headquarters?" Seitz asked right away, surprised.  
  
"Yep," Signas nodded, forcing himself not to chuckle at the annoyed look that now creased Caligula's features. "You must remember that Doppler was one of most ingenious Reploids to ever live. His mind was so advanced that he was capable of creating the perfect code…several of them, at that."  
  
"Yes," Caligula nodded in resignation. "Doppler took cruel pleasure in frustrating our Intel department with his encryptions. That's one of the reasons we never realized his air force was heading for our HQ until it was too late…we couldn't break their communications."  
  
"So what does that have to do with what's happening nowadays?" Seitz knew he'd jumped the gun and annoyed his boss, but he'd rather just get to the point. Curiosity was a real bitch sometimes.  
  
"Well…" Signas replied, scratching his head and grinning sheepishly. "After Doppler fell, the Hunters did something really terrible."  
  
"We realized how smart Doppler was," Caligula said quickly, addressing the very concerned looks on the faces of the two underlings.  
  
"Sorry," Signas said with another weak grin. "Yeah, with Doppler gone, most of his bases were no longer operational, but his remaining followers were working to either destroy the remaining codes Doppler invented or use them in last ditch computer attacks on Hunter HQ. The Hunters invaded most of these bases, including UNDINE." He stopped as if uncertain. He didn't want to say this next part wrong.  
  
Caligula handled it for him. "Inside UNDINE we found a rare treat: several unused codes developed by Doppler himself. When we analyzed them we were amazed at just how clever Doppler really was. We of course began to use the codes, and came to realize that for all the genius the codes seemed to emanate, Doppler actually followed a relatively simple pattern to form the backbone of his encryptions." He looked both Seitz and Zion in the eyes. "We still use that code pattern today, and in more than just communications."  
  
"The UNDINE site was supposed to have been destroyed years ago," Signas went on. "We wanted to take out the site and all remaining data with it. We didn't bother to relocate all of the information inside UNDINE…we just took what we needed and expected our demolition crews to handle the rest." Here Signas frowned. "UNDINE is located near a Catskill cave system. When our demo crews detonated their bombs, a massive cave in took place. The problem was that no one realized it. The general assumption that the new rubble was merely rocks churned up by the explosives…"  
  
"And now it seems that most of UNDINE is still buried down there beneath that rubble, which actually came from the surrounding area when the cave collapsed." Caligula shook his head in disbelief. "Our probes indicate that most of the explosives didn't even go off."  
  
"So what we have now, if I may attempt to summarize," Zion began, "is a base full of top secret information in what is now in Maverick territory."  
  
Seitz's mind flew into action. "Yeah…if we're still using those codes, and the Mavericks find out the root pattern, then they can break the code rather easily."  
  
"We use them to encrypt our communications," Caligula explained. "But we also use them as passwords for our computer networks and secret files. If the Mavericks somehow broke our code, they could access pretty much…everything."  
  
"That includes files that are above our jurisdiction," Signas added, surprising the hell out of both Zion and Seitz.  
  
"What do you mean, sir?" Kevin asked. "You're the leader of this institution. Why couldn't you access…?"  
  
Signas smiled somewhat ruefully. "Kevin, the most important information is almost never made available to those who can make use of it. Most of the files guarded by Doppler's code are government property, so to speak. Assault teams that accomplished more than what was reported in the papers, projects that never officially happened, you get the picture. More than once crucial information has been denied to the Hunters until it was too late."  
  
"Sir," Zion began again, "I know the danger that the UNDINE site presents, but I still do not see why you won't allow a Hunter squad to neutralize the threat."  
  
"Zion," Signas said, selecting his words carefully. He knew he'd offend Zion one way or another, but he didn't want to make it worse than it had to be. "Most of the Hunter units qualified for this kind of mission are composed of Reploids, and Reploids always have a chance of going Maverick."  
  
Zion's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Speaking for my own unit, I can assure you that there are no threats to Hunter security."  
  
"Still…" Signas sighed through his teeth. "I don't like it either, Zion, but the operational risk is too great. There's not much chance of getting these codes changed any time soon, and so the less people that know about them, the better."  
  
"Signas refers mostly to the alarming number of information dealers popping up." Caligula once again came to his superior's defense. "The chaos being caused by the Gold Serpent—Kou Cao—is much greater than anyone around here cares to admit. The kind of money involved in this kind of information…well, it's like the drug dealing that was so profitable last century."  
  
Zion and Seitz were both thinking the same thing, but it was the human who spoke first, somewhat to the Reploid's relief. "This UNDINE place has to be investigated, and if you can't trust the Hunters…who can be trusted?"  
  
Caligula spoke quickly, so he would be the one who officially proposed the idea. It was better for people to think him the bad guy if things went wrong than for them to get pissed off at Signas. "People who don't need money. People who have no need for profit or power. People with scientific ideals, and those ideals alone."  
  
For the first time that day, Zion's face showed real emotion: distaste. "You can't possibly mean…"  
  
Caligula cut off the soldier, who he didn't much like anyway. "Who better to investigate than the Investigators?"  
  
"You're talking about that scientist, right?" Seitz recalled a brief character profile. "The one in charge of Science and Technology in the Megacity System?"  
  
"His name is Gate," Signas reminded him. "He's one of the most reliable Reploids in existence, and a personal friend of mine."  
  
"Sir," Zion said tersely, "'personal friend' is hardly the kind of qualification we need for this kind of operation."  
  
"I know," Signas responded, just as tersely. "Gate is one of the most respected scientists in his field, and best of all, he and his people want peace."  
  
"Gate…" Seitz repeated the name and recalled what he knew about the Reploid. "Firm believer in pacifism, and he wants to stop the wars entirely. His 'people' are simply called the Investigators, and they tend to go where no one else is willing to go. Right…?"  
  
"More or less," Caligula confirmed. "His team is fairly small. As far as I know, his three operatives are Blaze Heatnix, Ground Scarabich, and Blizzard Wolfang. All three specialize in exploration, and aside from them, Gate has contacts in other areas. There's a big guy called Rainy Turtloid who spends his time investigating heavily polluted areas…areas that become polluted because of the Maverick Wars. Another one I know of is Commander Yammark, a jungle operative who keeps tabs on greening projects down south, and watches suspicious development projects while he's at it, just in case the Mavericks are up to something."  
  
"So in other words," Signas summarized, "Gate and his Investigators are technically neutral, but on the same time they're on our side. They want the wars to end totally, and that means making us the dominant party."  
  
Zion was unconvinced. "Just because these people act like peacekeepers doesn't mean they won't one day want to use these codes against us. Letting them see the UNDINE site isn't much better than sending in a troop of Hunters, who are not likely to betray us."  
  
"It's a sticky situation, Zion," Signas admitted. "But while the Investigators might well try to use codes against us, it won't be immediate. They'll never let anyone else know, even the Gold Serpent, even if he pays them all the money in the world."  
  
"How do you know that?" Zion persisted.  
  
"Because they already have all the money in the world," Caligula said, more sharply than he had intended. "Gate and his people are fully funded by the government. The leaders of the Megacity System are quite taken with him, and he has no trouble funding anything he wants to fund. While there is a risk, the risk won't come into effect before we have a chance to change our coding system, which more or less means that they're the lesser of the two evils."  
  
Zion still didn't like it, everyone could see, but he took it in stride, forcing himself to analyze and inevitably accept Signas's decision—even though it offended the hell out of him. "Fine. But that brings us to the next issue…can they do it, and if so, when?"  
  
"Soon, to answer the latter," Caligula answered. "Can they do it? I think so. The Catskills are a winter wonderland this time of year, and Wolfang will be right at home in there. Heatnix might not like it, but he can fly, so that oughta pacify him. Scarabich is a career explorer…he'll jump at the opportunity, and he'll do his job well."  
  
"I'll head on over to the next meeting of the Council," Signas suggested. "Gate is always at those meetings. I'll have a word with him in private, and see if he can't help us out."  
  
"So that's that?" Caligula asked.  
  
"It can work," Zion admitted gracefully. "If it's really what you want to do, I don't see any operational problems as of yet."  
  
"It's done." Signas glanced at Zion. "Don't worry. You'll have plenty to do soon enough anyway."  
  
Zion frowned. Seitz noticed. It wasn't that the soldier wanted a battle to fight. He just wanted to make sure that the Hunters weren't taking unnecessary risks. His pride in his men caused him to take the proposal of Gate's services somewhat hardly, but he barely let it show. He merely wanted to keep things limited to the Hunter army, and not to bring in too many outsiders. Seitz figured he could sympathize with that. Zion must still have nightmares about the ambush in Yates Forest, back with Zero when Sting Chameleon went Maverick. Sting's use of materials outside Hunter jurisdiction allowed him to take Zion's team by surprise and butcher the lot of them. It might be a long while before he would be able to place his trust in anything other than the soldiers he commanded.  
  
Signas nodded at Caligula. "Well then. You've got plenty to do, so I won't keep you any longer."  
  
Caligula stood and nodded back. "I'll keep you posted, sir."  
  
Signas turned and vacated the room. Zion glanced at Caligula. It looked as though the commander wanted to say something, but he either found himself unable to form the proper sentence or decided against it altogether and followed his superior out of the room.  
  
"Squid Adler will have a full report drafted by tomorrow?" Caligula switched topics effortlessly.  
  
"Yeah," Seitz nodded. "I'll get him on it right away."  
  
"Oh yeah," Caligula added before Seitz could leave. "What's this about Commander Archer headed to a landfill…?"  
  
"Oh." It took a while for Seitz to remember. "Some tip from one of his informants. You know how he likes to play detective."  
  
"Well, he hit right on the money with the quarry incident. Get a quote from him for me when he gets back, will you?"  
  
Neither of them knew they'd be getting much, much more than just a quote.  
  
***  
  
On the other side of the Megacity, deep in the clutches of the Catskills, Seraph Castle buzzed with activity. Small teams of Mavericks launched guerilla attacks on drone targets posing as Hunters. Their instructor, Malevex, was bound and determined to get each one of his men to know as much about the layout of the surrounding mountains as was possible. The ebon Reploid knew that an invasion had to come sometime, and he wanted to be ready for it. He just hoped that the Hunters took their time about it, or all of this would have been for naught.  
  
The thing was, while they were guarding against a Hunter invasion, they were going to leave Seraph Castle soon anyway. The kind of plan they had in motion was secret enough, but when they took the first move the Hunters—and the Megacity Army, for that matter—would respond instantaneously, and very violently. There was no way that Seraph Castle could hold out against a full invasion effort by both armies at once, and while they would do their best during the initial strike to level the Hunter forces as much as they could, the Maverick base itself would eventually be taken and destroyed. They had to have an evacuation route.  
  
A separate complex being constructed in Brazil covered that particular aspect. It was being built both legally and illegally—legally in the sense that the builders were on an official job, and illegally in the sense that they were being paid a gracious tip in exchange for them not telling anybody where the place was. The original plan was to just eliminate them, but Gredam had decided against that, wisely, Malevex thought. The parent company would raise hell, and an investigation would soon be underway that would eventually reveal the new jungle command center for the Maverick army. Cyber Peacock was handling the funds for this project, using money taken from the accounts of dead humans, much as he'd done with the Seraph Corporation. It was useful to have such a potent hacker around, Malevex decided, even if the bird was a little kooky at times. The peacock Reploid's use was doubled in the sense that he had been able to crack several codes used by the Hunter security networks. This breakthrough was made possible by one of Doppler's old bases, a place that the Hunters apparently called UNDINE. Malevex had found the place almost immediately upon moving into Seraph Castle. How foolish it had been for the Hunters to assume their demolition job was complete without even so much as a post-op evaluation of the site! But he wasn't complaining. It gave Cyber Peacock the information he needed to break into a few of the Hunter control networks, and it aided the hacker hired by Malevex and Gredam early on to procure the list of Terrornova leaders…the list that had served as the death warrant for Peter Thornton and Timofey Komanov. And the best part was that the hacker was still there, safely integrated into the Hunter community, and trusted with enough things to make him a valuable contact for the Mavericks. No doubt, the former spy knew, he would want to use the hacker again for the later stages of the plans that were coming slowly but surely to their completion.  
  
And with that one thought came another, a thought that he'd been trying to ignore for some time now. When the time came to begin their blitzkrieg—it was a term that Malevex had come to like, a German term meaning "lightning war", and it was exactly the kind of combat that the Mavericks had in mind this time—he would be leading troops into battle. The Hunters would turn up to stop him, and more than likely so would the Megacity Army.  
  
At that point, what would he do? Would he concentrate on the mission at hand, and destroy as much of the remaining Hunter forces as he could? Or would he be overpowered by the desire for revenge that really did still lurk deep in his equivalent of a soul, and direct his efforts towards stopping the Megacity Army and killing the people who'd caused the Terrornova project? It was easy to say now that he would never succumb to that temptation, and that he would help his men achieve the victory they believed they were fighting for. But when the time came, would he be able to really do it? Kitao and Virdelko were still at large, and Chartreuse too… His blood boiled at the very thought of the bastard's name. If he saw Chartreuse blood would flow, plain and simple, and screw the Great Maverick Cause. It would take self-restraint of the kind he knew he didn't have to ignore that demon, and while he knew Chartreuse was probably the most dangerous swordsman out there aside from Zero himself, Malevex had already promised himself that he would not die until he saw Chartreuse's charred corpse at his feet. Or at anyone's feet, for that matter…so long as the bastard died.  
  
Malevex shook his head to clear it. The Maverick platoon he was training had gathered into a few rows on the road closest to Seraph Castle. Malevex didn't put much effort into making his soldiers stand in the usual stiff military pose—the Maverick "army" was even less of an army than the Hunters were. The fighters did, however, stand respectfully still in what passed for attention when in the presence of one of their new commanders. Most of the Mavericks nowadays were in the group for their own reasons, and most often those reasons did not include Reploid independence. Rather, profit was a big motive, and in some cases the battles the Mavericks got into were just excuses to kill people. Even these most brutish of fighters, however, respected their new commanders, for because of them the soldiers now knew many things about combat, especially combat in the Catskills, that they hadn't known before and would not have known had Malevex, Teytha, and Gredam not imparted the knowledge to them. Sigma had always been a good leader, but he tended to be too lax on specific training regimens. The Team was trying to correct that. These new tactics would keep the Mavericks alive much longer, and they appreciated that enough that they had respect for their leaders, and it was actual respect, if only even a little, rather than the respect out of fear that most people had had for Sigma.  
  
As they made their way back towards Seraph Castle, Malevex glanced up to see Teytha staring down at them from atop the building's roof. She liked to go up there to enjoy the view, he remembered. Gredam would be somewhere in the planning sector of the base, drafting tactics, reviewing maps, or analyzing developments, and Mortar would probably be close to him doing the same thing. The thought of his friends told Malevex more or less what his real mission was regardless of whatever else happened: keep them all alive. He'd come into this with his three companions and he meant to leave it with all of them safe and sound. They'd entered this escapade thinking only to make a world where they could live safely, and that meant defeating the government above all things. If a bunch of people had to die for that to happen, well…tough shit. That was cold, of course, but he didn't much care at the moment. He had his mission, he had the means to accomplish it, and he sure as hell had the motive to do it. From this moment on, it was just as matter of when it would all happen.  
  
The Hunters were about to solve that problem for him, though he couldn't know that.  
  
____________________  
  
For Teytha, the mission was far easier to define: save yourself, save your friends, and to hell with everyone else in the world. And really, she had little reason to think anything else.  
  
The Maverick swordswoman stood atop the central tower of the complex people called Seraph Castle. It was deathly cold up here, but the view made it worth it. She'd never seen a place like this before, and never had she seen so much of any one place in particular. It was one of the few things in life that always took her breath away. Plus, standing up here was one of the most relaxing activities she'd ever discovered, and she needed a lot of that lately.  
  
More than any of her comrades, Teytha feared the battles to come. It wasn't that she was afraid of combat itself, or really anything else in the world for that matter. Except for one thing. That one thing was a possible outcome of the impending future, and it was not a future she wanted to look forward to. She lived today because of Malevex and Gredam, and she more or less lived off their companionship. Mortar was just as important to her. She'd always wanted a free life more than anything, but she didn't want to have it if it couldn't be with these people. If any of them died in the upcoming battles, she wouldn't have very much left to live for. She'd do all she could to watch their backs, and hope they all came out of things safely. Especially Malevex.  
  
She was close to all three of her friends, but it was different for each of them. Because of Gredam's innate demeanor as a commanding officer, it was often hard to open up to him about anything, and it often seemed to her that she was aiding him merely in repayment for putting her back together. Mortar had always regarded her with a sort of fatherly care, and had given her the emotional support she'd needed. There wasn't much that she couldn't handle on the physical scale, but she hadn't been ready to handle the mental horrors of the Terrornova program and without Mortar's help, she would have given up a long time ago, and to this day she still went to him for advice and counsel. With Malevex, though, she felt a special closeness. During their days as assassins he'd been there for her whenever Mortar couldn't be, and protected her in a more overt manner than the older Reploid had. After her revival, it had been Malevex who'd spent nearly all of his time with her to try and get her back up to speed with the world, and to help her through the lingering memories of her deactivation at Chartreuse's hands. For that she was extremely grateful, and even more so for his efforts to help her realize that she was now the free Reploid she'd always wanted to be, and his efforts to make her feel safe. For that was what she really needed, she'd realized. You couldn't really be free if you were constantly in danger. Malevex had given her a real sense of security, and it was only around him that she ever felt completely safe.  
  
Most Reploid CPUs had the capability to comprehend what the humans called love, but Teytha tended to dance around the term. Try as they might, the creators of the Reploid race could never really copy the full emotional structure of the human mind into a mechanical being, and so it was a common belief that while some Reploids might understand love and try to emulate it, to actually feel it was somewhat unheard of. Teytha thought of Malevex more as her truest friend than anything else…but then, wasn't that what some humans considered to be love? Well, it was better not to think about it. In short, she didn't want to live without him, and while she doubted that he'd allow himself to be killed easily, she'd still make a special point to protect him, much as he'd protected her all these years already.  
  
Her thoughts broke up when Storm Eagle alighted next to her, folding his great blue wings and offering her a beaky grin. The big, cerulean armored avian was one of the most competent Mavericks Teytha had met thus far, and so she didn't mind having a conversation with him.  
  
"I see that someone else enjoys heights." He seemed pleased. Storm stretched his arms out and took as good breath as he could of the extremely thin air. "Or the view, at any rate."  
  
Teytha smiled a bit. "The latter."  
  
"I see." The Maverick chuckled a bit. "Well, heights would scare me too, I suppose, if it were possible for me to fall from them."  
  
"It is," Teytha responded with a shrug. "All someone would have to do is clip those wings of yours."  
  
"Shh. I'd rather not dwell on such things."  
  
She laughed in turn. "How goes your end of things?"  
  
He shrugged lightly. "I've got several scout droids in the skies. A spy plane might run into 'em, granted, but they'll still tell us when someone's coming for us." He glanced at her. "And as for the main event, Revolver and his crew are putting the finishing touches on Gallagher's weapons systems as we speak. They'll attach it when they're finished, but…"  
  
"But…? Is something wrong?"  
  
Storm took a slow breath. "Well…it's just…" Out with it, he decided. "Are you guys absolutely sure you want to do this?"  
  
Oddly, the question took Teytha by surprise. She'd never bothered to do too much thinking on their attack method, other than acknowledging the fact that it'd do a number on the Hunter army. "It will work."  
  
"If nothing goes wrong," Storm pointed out. "This is an extremely sensitive operation. If only one thing goes awry…"  
  
She was forced to nod at that. "I know, Storm. But we've thought up ways to deal with most every situation that might come up."  
  
"The situation that always comes up is the one you never plan for," he reminded her.  
  
Again, she had to nod. "What else can we do?"  
  
"It's not that I really disapprove of the plan," Storm clarified. "I just don't want us to get in even more over our heads here." He nodded his head downward towards the soldiers Malevex was leading into the base. "I've got a responsibility to those soldiers in my command."  
  
"You always struck me as pretty loyal…I can see where you're coming from." She stared across the expanse before her, towards the farthest mountains she could see. Her hair hung loose due to the absence of her helmet, and the wind tussled it nicely. "Must be nice, having so clear a goal."  
  
Storm blinked. "Well, I wouldn't say it's quite so clear."  
  
Teytha blinked back. "You fight for a cause, right?"  
  
He nodded. "True, but just what cause is that? The liberation of Reploids? The well being of my soldiers? Or for my commander, Sigma?" He stopped, and his eyes faded somewhat. Memories of a rather distant past flooded back into his mind, and he looked towards Teytha with his beak again in the semblance of a grin. "Did you know that I originally fought against him?"  
  
This was news. "I thought his whole unit went Maverick with him?"  
  
The avian shook his head. "Not so. Sigma told most of us that he was going to go Maverick beforehand. They were prepared, and were more than willing to follow him anywhere. I, on the other hand, was not part of the loop." He looked up towards the sky, the endless expanse that he considered to be his heaven. "When Sigma betrayed the Hunters that day, I was shocked and enraged. I'm a loyal bird by nature, and my devotion to the Hunters was strong. I confronted Sigma alone atop the old Hunter Headquarters building, and sent gust after gust at him to try and knock him to his death. Through all that time, though, he never attacked me. He just dodged my attacks and pleaded with me, over and over, to see the humans for what they really were. Eventually he made me realize that my loyalty was not to the Hunters, as I suspected it was…my loyalty was to Sigma himself, the best commander I'd ever served, and a man who truly wanted nothing more than the freedom of his people. When I surrendered, what do you think he did? Nowadays, people who don't know the real Sigma would say that he probably punished me severely for my insubordination, but that's not true. He just welcomed me back, and trusted me as fully as he had before all this chaos started." Here he sighed. "Over the years, though, Sigma changed. He was a whipped dog, a hated menace whose only goal seemed to be the sowing of destruction. Traces of his original personality vanished, probably on account of that strange virus that no one can figure out." In his voice he carried a bit of grief for the commander who'd died and been replaced by a hollow shell of himself, and the gesture was not lost on Teytha.  
  
"I didn't know all that," she admitted. "But if he's nothing like he was when you originally followed him, why do you still wait for him to resurrect himself so you can follow him again?"  
  
Storm's face bore a slightly embarrassed look. "It sounds a little melodramatic, but this last form of his…the body that got shot up at the quarry, it was different from the others. This time, I could see a bit of the commander I knew peeking through the virus that's killed his emotions. Sigma was back, at least for that moment, and when he comes back—and he will, he always does—if he's anything like he was this time, he's someone I'll fight for. He's been my commander for the majority of my existence, and I'll fight for the realization of his dreams."  
  
"But what about your own dreams?"  
  
"My dreams?" Storm laughed a bit. "My dream is simply the end of this mechanical apartheid. The humans and Reploids could probably live in peace, but the humans won't let that happen. They have too many bullshit laws and prejudices against our kind, and for that reason the only real way to get anything done is through force." He grew very serious. "So that's why, ma'am, if you want to use the kind of force that Revolver is equipping Gallagher with…if you want to use a force that terrible, then fine. I'm still with you. Force is the only way to accomplish my dream, and Sigma's dream, and I'm behind it all the way."  
  
And that was it, she knew. If Storm Eagle could be this level headed and still support what they were planning to do, then it had to have at least some merit. Didn't it?  
  
The bird straightened up. "Well, I've talked you to death, ma'am. I'll be getting back to my unit." His wings unfurled and began to beat in powerful thrusts that lifted him off the roof and into the sky he loved. "I await your next command." With that he dove down a good many feet and arced upwards to a decent cruising altitude. His small unit was somewhere in the nearby mountaintops, and he headed right to them.  
  
"So many different missions," she said to herself, "and one way to achieve them all." She'd do it. It wasn't that bad, really. If collateral damage had to exist, so be it. It was like she said—save herself, save her friends, and the rest of the world could go to hell.  
  
She found herself wondering if she'd think the same thing after the mission came to its culmination.  
  
____________________  
  
Megacity Landfill XRE was located in the "dead section" of the giant metropolis. Most landfills in the city were in or were close by this area, officially called the 7th District. There were plenty of slums in Megacity 5, but the 7th District was by far the largest of the lot, and it was littered with thugs and hoodlums. Many thought that this was why the Megacity 5 Headquarters of the Megacity Army was located on the edge of the 7th District—to keep order. But that was a job for police, not soldiers. There were other reasons for the Army HQ being where it was…reasons regular people didn't need to know.  
  
Commander Archer of the Maverick Hunters met the landfill's patrol supervisor as soon as he passed through the entrance gate. This had better be good, he found himself thinking. It wasn't every day that a Hunter got called away from the HQ to do what had to be nothing more than police work, and even then the Hunter sent out was never a unit commander. Someone, however, had deemed it necessary to invite a high-ranking officer down to the landfill to take a look at something or other, and Signas had sent Archer to do the job. That was too bad. Archer would much rather have been training with his unit, which only recently had fully recovered from the battle in the 12th district quarry…that seemed so long ago now, didn't it? And only now was his unit back together entirely—Vulcan had been released from the medical ward this very day, and Kyre, who had sustained a very serious injury during the quarry incident, had been released three days ago. But, instead of preparing them for the battle that would come once the politicians stopped sitting on their hands, he had to dawdle around in a junkyard. This better be good, he thought again.  
  
His first inkling of how "good" this would be came when the supervisor led him into the landfill's small office building. Normally it was the spot where the diggers or patrollers would punch in or out, and on certain days would collect their paychecks. Now, though, it was empty except for Archer, the supervisor, and a tall human decked out in the garb of a major in the Megacity Army. Archer's annoyance was immediately drowned out by curiosity. Not only had someone called forth a commander of the Hunters, but they'd also sent forth a major of the "real" army. Perhaps something big really was afoot. But what could come out of a landfill that would pose any danger to anyone, not counting infections humans could get by stepping on shards of metal?  
  
"Commander Archer," the major said as soon as the Reploid had entered the room, "I'm glad you could come."  
  
"Something up around here?" Archer asked as he took the human's proffered hand. A high and mighty Megacity official shaking hands with a lowly Reploid? Wow. And why a handshake and not a salute? Wasn't that what the army did?  
  
"You could say that," the human responded, glancing towards the supervisor. "I am Major Coleman of the Megacity Army. This fellow here alerted my superiors in regards to a theft that took place in this landfill."  
  
"How do you steal something from a landfill?" Archer asked with a raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't someone see you?"  
  
"Eh…" The supervisor looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. "That's my responsibility, I guess…we had a power problem a couple of weeks ago, and the guys I had on patrol were pretty good with electricity. I didn't wanna call the power company—it takes them ass holes forever—so I figured I'd see if these guys knew what the problem was. They did, and we spent an hour or two fixing it. I guess during that time, someone dug up a patch of land and stole the stuff beneath it."  
  
"Do we know what was buried there?" Archer had inadvertently jumped right to the heart of the matter.  
  
"Perhaps we'd better take a walk," Major Coleman suggested. He motioned to the supervisor. "Show us to the spot, will you? Follow us, sir."  
  
They left the office and began a speedy march into the depths of the large landfill. Archer's first thought was that he'd rarely been forced to smell something so horrible. But Coleman didn't look affected by it, and Archer would be damned if he complained before the human did.  
  
"My two newest guys discovered the whole thing," the supervisor said as he walked, hoping he was being helpful. It was his ass if the Army decided to punish the landfill. "They saw that the dirt was a bit darker than the dirt around it…we cover everything here with dirt, so we can easily access the farther regions of the 'fill."  
  
"Your two newest guys…?"  
  
"Yeah," the supervisor replied with a nod. "Hired 'em not a week ago. At first I thought they were a bit lazy, but it turns out they got good eyes, I guess. Still…"  
  
"Still what?" Archer persisted, mostly for the sake of conversation.  
  
"Still," the supervisor continued, "they're the weirdest two guys I know. One of 'em's a skunk, and he's got the foulest mouth I've ever come across—and I come from what was once Brooklyn, y'know? The other one is this big gorilla, and he seems dumb as a pile of dogshit, but he's the one who first saw the dark dirt, so who knows, eh?"  
  
Archer had frozen in midstep. Coleman glanced back in a bit of concern, prompting the Reploid to move forward.  
  
"Something wrong?" the major asked.  
  
"No…nothing at all." It couldn't be…Pierre and Ludwig were some of Archer's best contacts. They'd been the ones who'd tipped him off about Grizzly Slash's meeting with Sigma in the quarry, but even so, the two crept the bejesus out of Archer sometimes.  
  
They came to a halt near a rather large hole with nothing in it. Major Coleman nodded to the supervisor and he left, walking rather speedily towards his office. He seemed glad to leave.  
  
"What I'm going to tell you is classified, sir," Coleman explained. "Even the workers at this landfill can't know what's buried here, in some locations."  
  
Archer nodded. He was finding that he liked Coleman…the human called him "sir" and that was unheard of. "I imagine that this information can be passed to my superiors?"  
  
"Them, and no one else." Coleman was dead serious about that part. Archer nodded and the human relaxed somewhat. He looked down at the hole and a new expression came over his face. It was a mixture of disappointment, uncertainty, and…fear? Right then and there Archer knew that this day was taking a turn for the worst.  
  
"So," Coleman began again. "What do you know about history?"  
  
Archer blinked. He had been preprogrammed with knowledge of most of history's major events, but he really didn't pay much attention to things other than wars, which he studied to analyze tactics and little else. Plus, it did help to know what other had done that hadn't worked out in the long run, so he wouldn't make similar mistakes. "Not much," he admitted to the human. "What part of history in particular should I know about…?"  
  
Coleman nodded thoughtfully and to himself, as if he'd just decided what he was going to say. "Well, all throughout history, humans fought wars against each other using weapons that got deadlier and deadlier each time around."  
  
"I do know something about wars," Archer offered.  
  
Coleman nodded again. "Then you know about some of the weaponry in question? We evolved from stone spears and steel swords to firearms and daggers, and from there to grenades and even things as terrible as mustard gas, and other chemical and biological agents."  
  
It was Archer's turn to nod. "We had a scare with those recently. Split Mushroom, remember him?" Split Mushroom had been a Maverick in Sigma's employment during the Repliforce Revolution. He'd holed himself up in an abandoned bio lab and spent his time developing killer biological weapons. Fortunately, the Hunters had stopped him before his projects had become operational, but people were still afraid to go near the bio lab because of what might or might not remain in the air around the place.  
  
"I remember," Coleman said solemnly. "Biological weapons were one of the great weapons of mass destruction. Their counterparts throughout most of history were guided missiles equipped with nuclear warheads." The human lowered his gaze to the hole in the ground, and his voice became somewhat distant. Archer paid close attention, though he wished the human would just get to the point. "The Nazis were the first ones to utilize guided missile technology with their V1 and V2 rocket programs. From then on, every country wanted a piece, and with the advent of nukes we were all in trouble. Did you know that missiles in Cuba nearly started a nuclear war?"  
  
Archer didn't, and it was slightly interesting to him. "You mean the Cuban Missile Crisis? I thought it was just a footnote of the Cold War."  
  
"It is," Coleman said with a snort. "It should be so much more, though. We were literally hours away from the destruction of the earth…but that's the past, right?"  
  
"Right," Archer said warily. He had a feeling that he wasn't answering correctly, but he wasn't concentrating hard enough to be worried about it.  
  
"What do you know about the Global Nuclear Reduction Treaty?"  
  
Archer thought for a moment. He actually did know the history of this one. The Global Nuclear Reduction Treaty, or GNRT, came about after a series of terrific nuclear crises that nearly resulted in the same nuclear war that the Cuban Missile Crisis could have begun. About a century ago, vast amounts of nuclear weapons had spread throughout the world, and not only to nations. Terrorists were constantly threatening some nation or another with nuclear holocaust unless they conformed to this condition or that condition. The nuclear programs of many prosperous countries, such as the United States, had expanded to the point where people were learning ways to control nuclear power that hadn't existed in earlier times—if you could call it that. Archer didn't believe that nuclear energy could ever truly be controlled. Of course, with all those nukes floating around the world, political and military stability only lasted so long.  
  
The scare came during a particularly trying time in the diplomatic relations between the USA and China, the world's two superpowers at the time. The two countries didn't like each other very much, and some fool US military op on Chinese territory pissed the latter party off royally. Top US officials, most of who were war hawks anyway, suspected that the Politburo might even be mad enough to send a message via one of its Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles. Not long after this observation was made, something happened in China that made the rest of the world jump in their seats. The small US invasion force had given China's Red Army sufficient cause to worry about other possible attacks, and they'd convinced the Politburo to get their nukes ready to fly, just in case. During this process, there was a massive computer error at one of the missile silos. No one knew the specifics, and Archer personally believed that a saboteur was involved—a simple computer error shouldn't have caused this incident, which was, simply put, the sudden launch of a Chinese ICBM. The warhead, fortunately, was not activated, and being as the launch was unexpected, certain flammable components were still beneath the rocket when the engines flared to life, creating a rather massive explosion that leveled the silo and disabled the missile before it got into the air. Of course, the US spy satellites noticed this little incident right away, and when confronted with the problem the Chinese, in all their arrogance, denied that anything had even happened—they still had yet to get organized themselves. Paranoid, and equally disorganized, the Americans reviewed their satellite imagery and concluded that there definitely had been a launch of some kind inside China. They could not, however, locate an incoming missile, which brought new fears: what if the Chinese had some new stealth technology that they didn't know about? Immediately, the USA upgraded their defense systems and readied their nuclear weapons in case China was indeed launching a nuclear attack.  
  
In the end, politicians from both countries had contacted each other and cleared up the incident. It hadn't been quite so simple, of course, but the end result was really all that mattered to Archer and to the rest of the world. Almost instantaneously afterwards, however, a new nuclear crisis broke out between India and Pakistan, and this time the diplomatic channels were slightly less effective. The two countries had always been mortal enemies, and given the fact that both countries had access to nuclear weapons and both of their governments were decidedly unstable, the world should have paid more attention to them.  
  
But of course they hadn't, and because of it nearly a whole generation of Indians and Pakistanis were wiped out. War erupted between the two nations over a religious incident—what else?—and despite sudden efforts by the other nations of the world, nuclear weapons were used. The carnage wiped out entire patches of land and bestowed a barren curse upon them that would last for decades to come. Muslim nations of Asia united around Pakistan, their brother in faith, and threatened to use their own militaries to defeat India. Knowing that it would surely lose were the combined Muslim nations of the world to come against it, India was willing to back down. Diplomats from the USA and other countries good at covering things up came to India's aid, and with Pakistani officials they drafted a plan in which neither party had to surrender, preserving some old vendettas but quelling new, more severe ones that would have come from a humiliated India. Instead, both countries merely left the other alone, and UN peacekeepers kept watch on the nuclear arsenals of both countries to try and comfort the enemy nations, who didn't trust each other in the least regardless of whatever treaty they'd signed.  
  
It was these things that caused world leaders of most every civilized country to realize that nuclear weapons in any form meant death, one way or another. The entire world gathered together and drafted a treaty that aimed to remove all nuclear weapons from the earth, something most people claimed would never happen. It hadn't happened, but the number of nukes in the world had been drastically reduced by numbers no one would have thought possible a few years prior to the signing of that historic treaty, the Global Nuclear Reduction Treaty. With that treaty, all governments had more or less discarded the option of nuclear weapons.  
  
"I know that the GNRC was the treaty that saved our asses from cooking in a radioactive fire," Archer replied truthfully.  
  
"Indeed," Coleman nodded again. "You know that governments had stopped using nuclear weapons, but there were still terrorists to worry about. The USA stockpiled their nuclear weapons in various sites that were under heavier protection than the White House itself. No terrorist had a chance of getting in there. In these sites, the USA dismantled its nukes and rendered the parts useless, destroying them in any way possible and burying the things they couldn't get rid of…nuclear waste, and all that."  
  
"So what does that have to do with this hole? Was there nuclear waste here or something?"  
  
"No…" Coleman almost laughed. "The waste is just that—waste. Most of it has been sterilized anyway. That's something we learned how to do well a while back. No, this hole is something different." He looked embarrassed again. "It's a major failure on the part of the government…both the former United States and the Megacity Council. In the days following the GNRT, the USA had developed the technology already to 'control' nuclear power, if only slightly. What this more or less meant, for their military, was that they could create nukes that would only damage smaller areas, rather than the big whoppers that wiped out entire cities like in Pakistan and India."  
  
Archer laughed despite himself. "Come on, major. There's no such thing as a small nuclear bomb."  
  
Coleman didn't laugh. "Well, you're partially right, but when you think about it…picture a warhead that destroys an entire city. Now picture a warhead that only wipes out a certain part of the city, maybe even only a radius of ten or twelve blocks. I'd say that there is such a thing as a small nuclear bomb."  
  
Archer blinked, still not guessing where Coleman was going with this. "Begging your pardon, Major Coleman, but what kind of dumbass creates a nuke that only does minor damage? It sorta defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"I mean…isn't the whole point of a nuke to wipe out as much as you can? I mean, when the army was making these things, why would they settle for a small section and use a nuke on it? Why not use a regular missile? Don't tell me that there weren't missiles that could do the same thing as the nukes you just described, and without all the political fallout. I mean, Jesus!" Archer, without really thinking, invoked the name of a being that meant nothing to him, a machine. "I mean, once you use a nuke, the rest of the world starts using them against you, and if you only have that one chance at a free nuclear attack, why the hell would you waste it on something a conventional missile could do?"  
  
"Zero percent chance of survival," Coleman said simply, as if it made perfect sense. "Conventional bombs don't guarantee that everyone in the blast range will die. These missiles do, more or less."  
  
Archer blinked again. "How could there possibly be that many people in one spot who absolutely had to die?" Coleman answered him with a simple look, and Archer realized that he really did know dick about international politics. And he'd thought the Mavericks could be ruthless!  
  
The thought hit him like a sack of bricks. The Mavericks… He looked up slowly at the major, and Coleman responded with yet another one of his looks. Archer was finally getting it, the human saw.  
  
"I regret to say," the major went on, "that due to time constraints and monetary issues, the nukes to be dismantled were not always fully dismantled…if you know what I mean."  
  
"No, I do not…"  
  
"Everyone in the GNRT deal had to make certain reductions in a certain time frame," Coleman explained. "Since the USA had so many more nukes than most countries, they had a whole lot more to reduce than the other guys did. In effect, we screwed ourselves with our own treaty."  
  
"You mean, sometimes we couldn't meet those deadlines we set?"  
  
"Right. So to save face, we—the US—would sometimes make a half-assed dismantling effort on some of our bombs and bury them right away, to make quota."  
  
"Pardon me, major, but dicking around like that with nukes…that's just stupid."  
  
Coleman nodded. "No argument there." He motioned to the hole in the ground. "Megacity Landfill XRE is much more than just a landfill, Archer. It is a base for the Megacity Army, and that is why we have some patrols running around keeping watch every once in a while. Sure, we bury garbage here, but long ago, other people buried something else here, and some of it was right in this hole." Coleman looked Archer in the eye. "The United States produced the Buzzbomb right near the time the GNRT was signed."  
  
"Buzzbomb?" Archer asked with a frown. Then a random memory hit him. "Wait…wasn't the German…?"  
  
"Yeah," Coleman nodded, impressed. "The Nazis called their V1 rockets Buzzbombs, too. I don't know why the USA of all countries picked that name, but they did. Anyway, the Buzzbomb was a tiny missile equipped with an equally tiny nuclear warhead. It was designed to take out certain areas entirely, in case a message ever needed to be sent or certain people had to be killed right away. You were right on the money with the 'one shot at a nuclear surprise attack' thing. The Buzzbomb would create a blast that would pass as something a conventional missile would do—only it would be a helluva lot more effective at the same time." Coleman again looked at the hole. "One time, there was a big problem with the reduction process, and a few Buzzbombs didn't get dismantled like they should have. They were tampered with briefly, and placed in a landfill to rot. That was this landfill. In this hole."  
  
A hole that had just been dug up, Archer realized. "You're saying someone stole nuclear weapons from this place…?" It was a hell of a thing to say, and the force of it hadn't fully hit Archer yet.  
  
"I'm saying," Coleman clarified, "that three outdated, heavily damaged, and still rather dangerous former nuclear weapons were here, and now they're not, and that train over there had a part in it." He motioned to the tracks near the landfill. A train came by every day depositing new garbage for the landfill, and no one really thought much of it.  
  
"What about the train?" Archer didn't make the connection only because his brain did not want to.  
  
Coleman sighed. "Someone had to get these nukes out of here somehow, didn't they?"  
  
Archer blinked yet again. What was it with all these questions? Why couldn't this guy just spit it out? Why couldn't—  
  
It hit like a freight train. It was just a small thought that blossomed from the back of his brain. It seemed so unrelated, so distant, so remote, but could that be the key that connected everything that had happened thus far in Megacity 5? "Where…where does that train stop?"  
  
No more holding back, Coleman knew. "That train comes here and back to base via a lap around the city, usually. It was installed for convenience, mostly, not for military use, which I admit now was a mistake." The human put his hands in his pockets and stood up straight, no longer meeting Archer's eyes. "Recently, a new route was added to that train's itinerary. This time it was to collect the trash it would bring to the junkyard. Things went on like this for a while until these weapons were stolen."  
  
"That night," Archer persisted, "where did this train stop?"  
  
"That train," Coleman said, deflated, "stopped inside Steel Alley on a regular basis, and on one night it stopped a little longer than usual. It unloaded a shipment that remained in the care of a man named Cartwright…and a few nights later, another train came by known in the stations as Blackstar train number 5041 to collect that load." Coleman forced himself to look the Hunter in the eye and summarized what he'd said. "The Mavericks have smuggled nuclear weapons from this landfill to their home base at Seraph Castle."  
  
The first thought that flashed through Archer's mind, when he was able to think, was that by realizing that something was wrong in the landfill Pierre and Ludwig had probably just saved the free world. Any humor that the irony of that thought might have invoked died hard when Archer considered the next thought that immediately jumped into his mind, which was that the Hunters and the humans were in deeper dogshit than ever before. The air around him sort of crashed, and he felt slightly sick, or at least as sick as a Reploid can feel. For a moment he lost all sense of time and location, knowing only one thing: the Mavericks had nukes.  
  
When he did come back to earth, he couldn't find the proper words with which to address Coleman, who just stood there patiently. The human had experienced a similar reaction himself, and wondered if Archer's final mindset would be similar to his own. It was.  
  
"What do we do…?" the Reploid asked, somewhat helplessly.  
  
"I'm meeting you here," Coleman explained immediately, "only to give you the information in person. It is impossible to trust this information to coded channels or network addresses—if the Mavericks intercept the message and realize that we know what they've done, they may become antsy and, well…you know what might happen then. However, it is equally impossible to entrust this information with anyone less than a unit commander, so that's why I called you down." He stood up straight, speaking as confidently as he could. "You'll now go back to your headquarters. Colonel Alan Kitao of the Megacity Army is already on his way there. Brief your commander and your intelligence chief, and wait for Kitao to arrive before doing anything else. Action will be taken," Coleman said as affirmatively as he knew how.  
  
Archer processed the still overwhelming information in his mind before nodding to the human. "Thank you. I will do as you suggest." 


	23. Red Climate

1 Chapter Twenty-Two: Red Climate  
  
The day had stopped being humdrum for Caligula around six in the evening, around the time that most of the intelligence department, except for the operators of special projects going on at night, called it quits. It could be argued that during the days before a major military operation things were hardly routine, but this was not necessarily so for the Chief of Intelligence. He had a lot more to worry about as far as intelligence gathering and report filing, but even that got regular after a while, and the days went by in the same repetitive, if not hectic, way.  
  
He'd been in his office closing up for the night when Kevin Seitz had entered unannounced, which was something one rarely did to their boss. He carried a relatively tiny patch of paperwork for what seemed to be so urgent a situation. Caligula hadn't known then that most of the papers were merely passes to see department chiefs and a hastily handwritten scenario report usually filled out by officers returning from a mission. Commander Archer, ever the professional, had not gone straight to Signas with the information he possessed, something he would certainly have gotten away with under the circumstances, but instead had gone to Kevin Seitz, and from there to Caligula and finally to Signas, making the whole thing seem routine. Caligula would later appreciate this—Archer had stopped panic from arising sooner than it had to.  
  
"What's up…?" he'd asked his protégé immediately.  
  
"You said you wanted a quote from Archer when he got back," Seitz had explained dryly, handing out the papers.  
  
"You're getting much more than that, though," said Archer himself, walking in behind Seitz.  
  
Caligula had known right away that the papers he held in his hand were not meant to be read, at least not now. He was very curious, but did not question the look on Archer's face, or the one on Seitz's, for that matter. "Right," he'd said as he snapped his briefcase shut and whisked his brown trench coat off the coat tree in the corner of his office. "Let's go see the boss."  
  
Signas, too, was adept at reading people's faces, and when he received Archer's file from Caligula he'd merely set it down on the table and seated himself. He motioned for his guests to do the same, and then Archer started talking. Precisely thirty minutes later the four Hunters had left Signas' office with new tasks. Signas and Archer went to find Dr. Cain, while Caligula and Seitz had returned to their wing of the building and got to work on a very long list of chores. There was much to be confirmed, analyzed, and determined. Caligula had told Signas that he'd need at least an hour to get enough of the information that the Grand Commander wanted, but now that seemed like wishful thinking. It took the Invisible Men about two and a half hours to form a situation report and return it to Dr. Cain, who was busy calling together the Hunters who'd need to be in the know.  
  
About an hour before Caligula finished his work, Full Colonel Alan Kitao of the Megacity Army arrived at the Hunter Headquarters and met with Cain and Signas. The human was anxious to get down to business, and insisted that he had his own intelligence to rival anything Caligula could turn up, but Cain calmly instructed the colonel that this affair was stressful enough, and that the Hunters were not about to make it even worse by spreading misinformation through their ranks. They had to be sure about this.  
  
Hunters throughout the base noticed that one of the pricks from the Megacity Army had arrived, complete with his own protective detail, but most of them blew it off. It was wartime, or it soon would be, they reasoned. The guy was probably here to discuss arms shipments or engage in some more of that damned financial maneuvering—wining the Maverick Wars were not enough anymore: you had to win them without spending a lot of money. With any luck, some figured, this meeting might signify a concession by the government to let the Hunters go ahead and wipe Seraph Castle off the globe. They'd never know how right they'd been.  
  
____________________  
  
Zero tended to go to sleep later than most of the other Hunters, and tonight was no exception. He'd trained all day with his team, and was feeling rather beat. He rarely asked his soldiers to do something he wouldn't do himself. Running, for a Reploid, was merely a way to get the Reploid into a status of higher alert, and so Zero opened every training session with a bit of running, but not a lot, since all you needed with a team fully composed of Reploids was about ten minutes to get them ready for what Zero called the "real work". The real work involved fighting battles inside the Headquarters' training room against computer-generated opponents in computer-generated environments. They'd been focusing more and more on infiltrations since, like X's unit, Unit 0 was most likely to be sent to directly infiltrate Seraph Castle, rather than to lead any infantry movement. Zero did it with them, mostly to keep himself in practice. His soldiers were all in Unit 0 because they were born fighters. Therefore, they had absolutely no qualms about the increased training regimen, and in some cases found the training situations to be more fun than anything else their current lives had to offer. Zero wondered if that was because they enjoyed the thrill of combat, or just because it had been years since they had lost in a training situation.  
  
He'd been sitting on his bed, flipping through channels on his television set when X had let himself in.  
  
"Anything good on?" the azure Hunter asked casually.  
  
"Don't you ever knock?" Zero replied, not unpleasantly.  
  
"What's the fun of having a key if you still have to knock?" X was the only one, besides Signas and Zero himself, who had a key to Zero's quarters, mostly because many of the missions undertaken by the combined forces of Unit 17 and Unit 0—and there were quite a lot of those—were planned in this room by the two commanders as they snacked on pizza. Sigma would have fallen over if he'd ever learned how casually people plotted his defeat.  
  
"Good point. Come on in, then, unless you have a special preference for my doorway."  
  
"No can do," X said, his eyes plastered on Zero's television as he tried to figure out what the program was. "The boss is gathering all the major unit commanders and department chiefs in the conference chamber."  
  
"Which boss?" Zero had queried.  
  
"Both of them."  
  
"No shit…?" After blinking a few times, Zero had lurched off his bed and deactivated the television. He threw on the officer's coat he never really used except for policy meetings, noticing that X was wearing his. What was this about?  
  
Fifteen minutes later he found out. The conference chamber was a large, rectangular room that sported soundproof walls and a very long table lining the center of the chamber. X and Zero took their seats near the head of the table, simply because that was where they usually sat. By and by others began to arrive. Most were the commanders of the larger Hunter units, but eventually all of the department chiefs besides Caligula were seated at the table with everyone else.  
  
Dr. Cain shuffled over to his seat at the head of the table, nodding to X and Zero as he did so. "We're waiting on Caligula's report," the doctor explained. "It'll be here shortly."  
  
A human colonel who looked vaguely Oriental snorted slightly at that, Zero noticed. He sat below Cain, opposite Zero's side of the table. Zero didn't recognize the man himself, but he did recognize the garb he wore as belonging to the officer corps of the Megacity Army. The Megacity officers, as far as Zero was concerned, were a bunch of useless bureaucrats who couldn't direct a campaign properly to save their lives. If another war between human nations ever broke out, Zero was certain that the Megacity System wouldn't last too terribly long.  
  
Signas seated himself across from the colonel, next to X, who was next to Zero. The crimson Hunter acknowledged Signas with a nod, which was returned soberly. Whatever it was, Zero was sure that it was something big to require so large a gathering of Hunter bigwigs. Then again, Signas was new. The big Reploid had Zero's utmost respect, but Signas simply didn't have much real experience in commanding an army just yet. He might be getting worked up over something that wasn't quite as fearsome as he made it out to be.  
  
Zion sat next to the human colonel, across from X. The Reploid seemed to be trying hard not to look to his right, lest he offend the human with his distasteful stare. It was briefly amusing how uncomfortable Zion was next to the colonel, Zero thought. But not very, he admitted, since he wouldn't be acting much differently were he in Zion's shoes. The two Hunters' eyes met and they exchanged silent greetings, and even a brief smile, which was something Zero avoided in a meeting and something Zion avoided period, making it all the more notable. The two were linked by their pasts, and while Zero and Zion didn't cross paths much anymore, the respect and camaraderie that the two survivors of the Yates Forest ambush shared hadn't dwindled any over the years. Zion had distinguished himself as an infantry tactician during all four wars, and if anyone was going to be advising Signas about the move on Seraph Castle, Zero couldn't think of a better candidate than his old comrade.  
  
There was an empty seat next to Zion, across from Zero. The Hunter figured that this one would be reserved for Caligula. Archer was in the chair next to Zero, but Zero didn't offer any greeting. The alabaster Reploid seemed to be deep in thought. He also looked a bit older than the last time Zero had seen him, which was something he could never explain in Reploids. Archer was an old veteran from the early wars. He'd been a daredevil in X's Unit 17 during the second and third uprisings, and shortly afterwards had been named the commander of Unit 5, a unit which drew in many new Hunters to mingle with more experienced soldiers, in theory producing soldiers who were young but more capable. Here, Archer had revealed his responsible side. He'd at one point cared very much about a particular Huntress—something he'd never told anyone before—who'd been misread by her commanding officer and sent into a situation she hadn't been able to handle. After her death, Archer's daredevil ways came to an end. He forced himself to learn the strengths and weaknesses of each and every soldier he commanded, fearing that if he didn't he'd send them off to fates similar to the one that had awaited his girlfriend. As a result, Archer tended to get to know his soldiers on a personal basis, and while he generally kept his position as a commander intact, he took the loss of his soldiers rather hard. There wasn't anything terribly wrong about this, but Zero worried that the Hunters might someday lose the competent commander that Archer was because he wouldn't be able to handle a sudden decimation of his unit. His soldiering skills were still up to snuff, though, and if necessary his old daredevil tactics would come back into play. It was said that every jaw in Unit 5 would drop if they knew what their calm, composed commander could and would do when the odds were against them.  
  
Commander Mason of Unit 3 sat across from Archer. He and Zero exchanged a look of mutual confusion as Mason sat down. The two were an unlikely pair of friends. Zero tended to be a bit laid back with his men when the world was at peace, but Mason always followed the same strict training regiment. If anyone in the Hunter organization could pass as a drill sergeant, it was Mason. But he was effective, after all, and a good friend if he let you get to know him, which was not a privilege he often extended. Mason commanded a fairly large unit, which was probably why he was ahead of two department chairs in this particular mission. That meant that whatever was going on was more military than anything else.  
  
The two said department chiefs were Tiberius and Douglas, seated right across from each other. Tiberius acknowledged everyone in the room with his sweeping gaze alone. He was, to Zero, merely the chief medic. They had little to no communications with each other, since Zero didn't know many of the medics, and dealt with Lifesaver when checking the status of his wounded team members.  
  
Douglas, on the other hand, was well known to Zero. He'd come aboard with Signas after a long stretch working for one of the production factories that supplied the Hunters. Douglas had met Signas when the Grand Commander was a fledgling Reploid assigned to evaluating new weapons sent to the Hunter army. The two proved to be quite a pair, and so when Signas was elevated to his current rank he'd brought Douglas right along with him, assigning him control of the jumbled Research and Development department. Because of Douglas' organizational skills, the Hunters were now far more along in the technology department, and every Hunter who fought with an issued weapon was grateful for that fact. Zero didn't see Douglas often, but he rather liked the no-bullshit approach that the mechanic used when dealing with anything.  
  
Below the two chiefs were the commanders of the more significant Hunter units. Next to Tiberius was James Taggart, the commander of the Hunter air force. Taggart, a human in his early 30s, was one of the most skillful jet fighter pilots in the world. Because of this, he overtly hated his rank. He was in charge of all of the aerial assets loyal to the Hunters, and therefore he rarely got to fly anything. He gave the orders and drafted the plans, but he was still too young a man to not resent his inability to do the job himself. Occasionally he would manipulate the system in order to get in on a mission, and during an uprising he refused to stay on the ground, but that still wasn't enough for the man of the air. Taggart was very effective in his profession, much as he resented it, and there really was no better man to control the Hunter air force, which still wasn't as large as most people would have liked it to be.  
  
Erich Zegmann, the other human commander present, was seated across from Commander Taggart. Zegmann was a soldier who'd lost most of his family to Mavericks early in life, and as a Hunter he had been brutally efficient. Some had feared that he'd become a machine hater, and fight Reploids indiscriminately, but Zegmann had proved to be more level headed than people gave him credit for. The commander was in charge of Unit 15, a team responsible for what the Hunters called "heavy ops". If there was an explosion to cause, you left it to Zegmann. If ever there were a heavily fortified enemy encampment, Zegmann's team would take it out. The commander kept mostly to himself, and Zero wouldn't question that particular behavior. The crimson Hunter was well acquainted with the angst that had probably plagued Zegmann since the loss of his family.  
  
Commander Damia of the Unit 8 light infantry sat next to Commander Taggart, and was the only female present at the meeting. The Reploid had distinguished herself as both a spy and an effective guerilla combatant, making her the perfect choice for the leadership position at the head of the Hunter light infantry, which was composed mostly of scouts, spies, and in some cases assassins. Upon taking command, Damia had been worried that she would not be able to match the skills offered by her troops, but after Unit 8's missions during the fourth uprising, there was not a single soldier in Unit 8 that questioned Damia's abilities, and she had the full respect of each member of her small, subtle unit. This was fortunate, since as covert operatives they often had to function exceptionally well as a team. If anyone was going to covertly infiltrate Seraph Castle, Zero guessed, then Unit 8 would either be the infiltrating party or they would lead the way for whoever was going to do the job. They were all professionals, but their activities were rarely heard of—something they, as guerillas, took pride in. Fittingly, Damia and Caligula, the secrecy- obsessive Chief of Intelligence, got along rather well.  
  
Even though Cain had said that Caligula would be with them shortly, it took nearly thirty more minutes for the leader of the Invisible Men to take his seat across from Zero. Caligula was a career spook, having been involved in every uprising after the second. He'd made a name for himself by running agents inside the Maverick ranks and personally going in after them when things started looking bad. For this Zero respected him greatly, but despite that he didn't really get along with the chief. Caligula was secretive and distrustful, and didn't hang around unit commanders unless he had to. The soldiers and the spies were in different classes, and Caligula tended to think that his branch was more important, just as Zero and the other unit commanders thought otherwise. Even so, Caligula generally put aside his personal feelings when dealing with a crisis, and this prevented any kind of real hostility from brewing.  
  
The human colonel was overtly annoyed at Caligula's tardiness. "Are you sure you don't need any more time?" he said, quite sarcastically, when Caligula came to the table.  
  
"Yeah, I don't much like you either," the Chief of Intelligence responded unabashedly, momentarily shocking the colonel, who expected a more civilized response. Zero found himself approving the response.  
  
Dr. Cain, too, was slightly amused but didn't think it was the time to start trouble. "If we may get down to business," the old man said with a tone of command that was impossible to ignore. Caligula passed him a file full of papers and sat down across from Zero with his own much larger pile of images and reports. "Hunters," Cain began soberly, "what you hear in this room does not leave it. You will not tell anyone—not your soldiers, not your friends, not even your mothers," he added, with a look towards Taggart and Zegmann. "Eventually the time may come for others to know, but now is not that time. Now, I want everyone in this room to keep their heads. No matter what you may think, always keep in mind that it is not as bad as it sounds. Do you understand?" The rows of heads nodded in quite some confusion, and more than a little anticipation. "All right," Cain nodded in turn and motioned to the colonel. "This is Colonel Kitao of the Megacity Army. He is here to help us decide on our course of action. You see, we have quite a situation on our hands."  
  
"There's no sense in beating around the bush," Kitao took over, annoying Cain but not really caring. He produced a diagram of a missile from the file he'd brought with him and started it around the table. "This is a schematic for the SCBM 19-7, the Self Contained Ballistic Missile, otherwise known as the 'Buzzbomb'. The United States army developed it before the advent of the Megacity System." Kitao spoke slowly, as though he were addressing children. "The Buzzbomb was designed to pass as a regular missile during detonation, at least in the initial stages. The warhead used on the Buzzbombs was the miniature model used in conventional nuclear bombs—meaning, ones assembled on the ground and left in buildings, not attached onto missiles. These warheads had the power to create a nuclear blast that was confined to a rather small area, given the nature of the weapon. Everything within a radius of perhaps eight to ten city blocks from the detonation site would be instantly destroyed, meaning the United States could surgically remove any one area of a city that they wanted to without razing the entire city." Kitao cleared his throat and tried to breeze past the next part. "When the Global Nuclear Reduction Treaty was signed, the USA failed to make quota for the amount of dismantled Buzzbombs it had, and so to cover it up they merely deactivated the warheads on the intact missiles and buried them in select locations around the country." Kitao held up a picture of a landfill that most of the Hunters present recognized. "This is Megacity Landfill XRE, and it is one of the places where the Buzzbombs were hidden. And this," he said while producing a recently snapped photo, "is a rather large hole, right where the missiles should be." The gathered Hunters all reacted with stunned realization. Zero understood right away where this was going, and it served to totally drain him of energy.  
  
"Our Commander Archer," Caligula broke in, earning a cold glance from Kitao, "was at the landfill several hours ago, where he met with a major in the Megacity Army. All of this was confirmed, as well as the probable identity of the thieves responsible for lifting the nukes."  
  
"Probable…?" Commander Zegmann asked.  
  
"Well," Caligula went on, not about to give the floor back to Kitao, "the nukes were smuggled out of the landfill by train. That train stopped at a certain station and unloaded its cargo, where a certain man took very good care of it until certain other people showed up on another train to collect it." He glanced at X, Zero, and Zegmann. "I'm sure you understand."  
  
"No way," Zero breathed before he could stop himself. "Cartwright? That's what the Mavericks were smuggling?"  
  
"Yep," Caligula nodded. "Blackstar 5041 left the Steel Alley station with the Buzzbomb components aboard it, and the Mavericks made it back to base with all the cargo intact."  
  
"Except for the box that X destroyed," Zero piped up again, since X was too much in shock to speak for himself.  
  
"Wait a minute," James Taggart said. "Just spit it out, Cal. You're saying that the Mavericks have nukes?"  
  
"Yeah," Signas spoke first. "He's saying that the Mavericks have nukes."  
  
None of them took that well. X went rather pale and stared through the table, his eyes as blank as his face. Zero crossed his arms and lowered his head, his mouth slightly ajar as he began to comprehend exactly what this meant.  
  
"Remember," Cain said evenly, bringing them all out of their trances, "it's not as bad as it seems. Did I not tell you forgetful folk that not five minutes ago?"  
  
"The doctor is correct," Kitao said, regaining the floor. "The Buzzbombs that the Mavericks have were not just dumped into the earth. The warheads were disabled, though not removed, and even if the Mavericks were able to reactivate them the missiles themselves are old and outdated, and the skill needed to restore them is, well…unless Dr. Doppler is back in action, I doubt that anyone in the Maverick army is smart enough to fix these things."  
  
"Still," Zero persisted, "the possibility is still there." It was as much a question as a statement.  
  
"Yes," Kitao conceded reluctantly, "the possibility is still there."  
  
"How in the hell," blustered an angry Commander Damia, "did the Mavericks learn of these Buzzbomb things in the first place?"  
  
"That," Signas said when no one could answer, "is not a question for the Hunter Corps to answer." He didn't look at Kitao, but only because he didn't have to.  
  
The human colonel sighed. "We…we do not know. Whatever happened, that landfill was under our jurisdiction, so it's our fault. The people who actually knew of the Buzzbombs are few and far between, and I know who most of them are. This data wasn't even stored on our mainframes, so even a computer hacker couldn't have gotten access to the knowledge."  
  
"That would imply," said Commander Zion, speaking for the first time at this meeting, "that there is a leak in your upper echelon." He spoke evenly and didn't avert his gaze from his folded hands, which rested atop the table.  
  
"Yes," Kitao said at length. And I'm virtually positive I know who it was, he didn't say.  
  
"It doesn't make sense," Douglas said. "The Megacity Army is human based, for the most part, especially the upper ranks. Why would one of them tell the Mavericks, who want to destroy all humans, about nuclear weapons?"  
  
"Money," Kitao said with a detached shrug. "More than likely, if someone leaked the info, it wasn't to the Mavericks. A more likely situation is that they sold the information to the Gold Serpent, and from there it was sold to the Mavericks." Which was a lovely lie, he decided, especially since the man he suspected wasn't human at all.  
  
"So now what…?" X said. He hadn't said anything since the news had broken, and his face looked oddly—and unnervingly—peaceful. "The Buzzbombs are meant to take out specific areas of a city."  
  
"Yeah," Zero nodded, getting the picture. "Three guesses as to which area of Megacity 5 the Mavericks would like to neutralize."  
  
"My God," Taggart breathed. "An attack on the Headquarters now…this is the site where most of the worldwide Hunter artillery is stored. Our air force…our ride armor mechas…"  
  
"It goes a lot further than that," Chief Mechanic Douglas added. "Put bluntly, people, if one of these Buzzbombs hits Hunter Headquarters it will be the end of the Hunter organization. The Mavericks will have free reign of Megacity 5. At that point," he nodded towards Kitao, "it will be all up to the good people Colonel Kitao represents."  
  
"I do not know if the Megacity Army has the training or the firepower to defeat the Maverick terrorists," Kitao conceded.  
  
"Then," Zion said coolly, "we must make sure that the Hunters cannot be devastated by just one blow." He looked towards Signas and Cain. "Is it worthwhile to consider the evacuation of Hunter Headquarters?"  
  
Cain answered almost immediately. "I've already thought about it, Zion, and I must recommend against it. For one thing, we have too many assets to remove for it to be done in a timely fashion—by the time we're done, we could have mobilized to attack Seraph Castle and end the threat altogether. Plus, the Mavericks seem to have friends in high places this time, and no doubt our actions would not go unnoticed. The Mavericks would then merely wait until another attractive target showed up, or for us to return to the Headquarters, and then launch their attack."  
  
"Fine," Zion conceded, "but what if they do fire missiles at us? Do we have anything to defend ourselves with?"  
  
Douglas grimaced. "I know of a few things, but they're definitely not failsafe." The green Reploid inhaled slowly, and let the breath out just as slowly as he spoke. "The most obvious thing to use, of course, is the missile interceptor unit we have access to. This thing can lock onto an incoming missile and deploy small rockets to take down the incoming projectile." He took another breath. "The problem is, Seraph Castle is literally right in our backyard. Assuming that they use a conventional launcher as their deployment method, the Buzzbomb would probably be coming at us too fast for the interceptor to have time to do its job. I mean, it might work, but…" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, people, but I just can't guarantee anything."  
  
"So," Signas sighed, "the only real option for us is to destroy Seraph Castle as soon as possible." He smiled without humor. "I guess this is the 'shove in the right direction' that the Hunters have been hoping for."  
  
"Destroying Seraph Castle will not do any good," Commander Zegmann pointed out. "Seraph Castle is not what can destroy our Headquarters—it's the Buzzbombs that can do that. Unless we either recover or destroy the Buzzbombs, then any assault mission will be a failure."  
  
"That's right," said Damia. "So, why wait? We have aerial assets, don't we, James?"  
  
Commander Taggart nodded. "We know the key structural points of the castle. We can rain bombs on the place with our Ravens."  
  
"Indeed," Kitao agreed. "We can back you up. We'll surprise Seraph Castle…we won't give them a chance to take us out." Enthusiasm for that plan was rapidly building.  
  
"No." All heads turned towards Commander Archer, who had been silent this whole time. He'd had more time than anyone to contemplate the situation, and he had gone over something like this in his head many times already. "Respectfully, sir, that plan is a terrible idea."  
  
"And just why is that…?" Kitao all but scoffed. A Reploid was rebuking him? What was this world coming to?  
  
"Think," Archer ordered everyone. "Does anyone here know for sure what the Mavericks want to do with their new toys?"  
  
"I know what I would do if I were one of them," Zero replied, but across from him Caligula was smiling. The chief spook understood exactly where Archer was headed.  
  
"Yeah," Archer nodded, "that's the obvious thing to think, that they'd attack us here. But then what? Look at them. All they have is a small collection of soldiers. Yeah, they're highly trained and elite, but so what? A handful of troopers can't take over a Megacity. Seraph Castle is no match for the full force of the Megacity Army. If the Mavericks obliterated Hunter Headquarters and the Hunter organization with it, the Megacity Army would immediately respond by launching an all out assault on Seraph Castle…am I right, sir?"  
  
"Yes, you are," Kitao replied warily.  
  
"Right, then." Archer rubbed his temples as he selectively chose his words. "The Maverick stronghold would vanish, and probably its leaders with it. Another Maverick outbreak might occur in the future, yes, but by then the Hunters would have had a chance to rebuild their ranks, thus negating the Buzzbomb effect. It just doesn't seem likely to me that the Mavericks would deem it in their best interests to attack the Headquarters…not just yet, anyway."  
  
"But what, then?" Signas asked, curious.  
  
"I don't know," Archer admitted. "Maybe they intend to merely use the Buzzbombs as bargaining chips. 'You leave us alone and we'll leave you alone.' That kind of thing. Or maybe they'll exchange it for something or someone we have access to. Maybe they even have a better target than Hunter HQ…who knows?"  
  
"Have you ever considered," Zion suggested, not condescendingly, "that they might have a backup base somewhere?"  
  
"You mean," Taggart waved for them to wait, and let him catch up, "someplace that they can evacuate to, after they launch a nuclear attack?"  
  
"The thought has crossed my mind, but I haven't elaborated on it." Archer frowned. "It's another possibility. All they'd need is a way to smuggle themselves to wherever their hidden base is…and so far they have not lacked for resources."  
  
"Also, given their small numbers," Caligula pointed out, "it would be very easy for them to accomplish this." It was a very valid idea, they all thought.  
  
"This just puts us back on square one," Mason frowned. "We have one objective, and that's to secure the Buzzbombs from Seraph Castle."  
  
"Yes," Archer agreed, "but I do not support an immediate plan that focuses on only one branch of our forces."  
  
"It's because that wouldn't be foolproof," Caligula explained before anyone could ask the question. "We have to take action against Seraph Castle eventually. We agree on that. But when we do, it has to be a crushing deathblow that combines everything both of our armies has to offer. There has to be zero percent success opportunity for the Mavericks. If we come after them with some unfocused bombing raid, well…" Caligula looked briefly at every member of the little council. "Right now, we have a sort of stalemate. The Mavericks aren't attacking us because it is not yet in their best interests. This could be because they lack a contingency plan, or maybe because they don't have a method of delivery for the missiles—it doesn't have to be conventional launchers either, you know. But if we attack the Mavericks and fail to remove their offensive capabilities, then they will feel very threatened, and, well…there was an old saying among the old nuclear powers. It went 'use them or lose them'. You can bet your lives that they'll use the Buzzbombs if they think they might lose them."  
  
"So," Signas elaborated, "we have to hit them with a completely focused attack to knock them out of commission for good."  
  
"Yes," Zion began. "Infantry, air units, heavy artillery, the works. We'll also probably want to insert a few Hunters into Seraph Castle to make sure we get the people we need to get…mainly the new Maverick kingpins. Having soldiers inside the castle will also give us a better chance of recovering the Buzzbombs." He didn't mention X and Zero, nor did he look their way, but the two veteran Hunters knew damn well that if anyone was going to get stuck crawling into Seraph Castle the hard way and killing the Maverick leaders, it would be them.  
  
"This, then," Cain said in a tone that let everyone know he needed their input, "seems to be the plan we should develop: a massive, coordinated war effort with three objectives, those objectives being the destruction of Seraph Castle, the elimination of the Maverick commanders, and the recovery or destruction of the Buzzbomb missiles."  
  
"Figure a missile defense program into that, chief," Douglas piped up.  
  
Cain nodded and looked around the table. Even Colonel Kitao seemed satisfied.  
  
"You can count on the aid of the Megacity Army," the colonel stated. He looked to Signas. "I can organize an emergency meeting of the Megacity Council in Sub-City 3 as early as tomorrow, or the next day. Come, or send one of your subordinates, and tell us what you will need."  
  
"Give us a few days to get a rough estimate of what plan we'll use and what we'll need to do it with," Signas replied. "Then, I will be at that meeting. Sub-City 3 is also the location of Alden Military Base. They have reinforcements that can be used to defend the city if things go haywire…we need to put them on standby."  
  
Zero's mind raced. "The commander of that facility is an acquaintance of mine, sir. I can do the talking for you, if you want."  
  
Signas thought for a few minutes before nodding. The nod, for whatever reason, was very heavy. Some premonition of dread had just flashed through Signas' mind, but he didn't pick up on it. "Zero will accompany me to Sub-City 3, then."  
  
"It is decided," Cain stated. "We'll develop a plan to defeat Seraph Castle."  
  
"To do that," Caligula pointed out, "we'll need better intelligence. James, can you rig some of your Ravens for spy duty?"  
  
"That I can, Cal." Taggart thought for a minute. "Tremont and Delgado are the perfect two for the job. What exactly do you need pictures of?"  
  
"I need as detailed a shot at the area as you can get me," the intelligence chief responded. "If they're constructing launchers anywhere on or around the castle, we need to see if we can pick them up. If not, we need to see if any new outer defense mechanisms have been set up."  
  
"Got it," Taggart nodded.  
  
"What are we calling this one?" Cain asked, though he wasn't sure whom he was asking.  
  
"How does BROKEN HALO sound?" Zion responded immediately. He'd thought about this one already.  
  
"BROKEN HALO?" Zero got it right away. "I like it, Zion." It subtly referred to the destruction of Seraph Castle—they'd shatter the power of the seraph angel that guarded the Mavericks.  
  
"BROKEN HALO it is," Cain acknowledged as he gathered his papers together. "Well, it's been a trying night. For now, just get your thoughts together and figure out how to prepare your troops. That's what's always worked in the past. Just be sure to run something by me if it might result in explosions."  
  
The council began to disperse, with each member attending to his or her own individual duties. Taggart and Caligula met near the door and immediately began discussing the coming aerial reconnaissance. Signas met Colonel Kitao on his way out and stopped him for a brief moment.  
  
"About this meeting," the Hunter Grand Commander began, "can you make sure that Gate is there?"  
  
"Gate?" Kitao asked, somewhat distastefully. The colonel didn't like Gate much at all. "He's always at these kind of things. Why exactly do you need him there?"  
  
"I think he might be able to help us," Signas replied, guardedly.  
  
Kitao immediately knew that Signas was holding something back, but he didn't press the issue. They excused each other and went their separate ways.  
  
"This is a new one," Zero said to X. They were the last to leave, aside from Dr. Cain, who was still collecting his files.  
  
"Tell me about it," X replied, a bit dreamily. "This is too much at once."  
  
"But it can't be helped," Cain butted in, walking towards the pair. His tone was strangely sharp. "The fools who were supposed to dismantle the Buzzbombs…for God's sake, they should have known what would happen! The damned things shouldn't even have been built." Cain was a known enemy of nuclear power, in all its forms.  
  
"Nervous?" Zero asked.  
  
"Whatever happens happens," Cain replied with a shrug. "I'm getting too old for this shit," he added.  
  
X was the first one to catch the subtle hint behind that, and it brought him out of his little trance. "Say what…?"  
  
Cain sighed, somewhat sadly. "I'm sixty-six years old. My heart isn't going to last forever, you know…I've already had two heart attacks." The two Reploids knew about that, of course. Both were minor, and had been caused by stress during the first two uprisings. "This kind of stress, all over again…it's not good for an old man, you know?"  
  
"What are you saying…?" Zero asked, though he was pretty sure that he already knew the answer.  
  
Cain smiled weakly. "It means that I'm retiring. I'm turning full control of the Hunter forces over to Signas. This will be my last mission."  
  
Throughout their lives, both X and Zero had relied on Dr. Cain for more than they could add up. They knew that the man had to retire sometime, but they had still always feared the day it would happen, and the shock was unpreventable.  
  
"Doc…you can't retire yet," Zero protested lamely. "The organization is going through a bunch of changes as it is, and…"  
  
"Yes," Cain nodded with the weak grin still on his face. "So, you see, it's the perfect time for me to step down."  
  
"But, you…" X stammered in turn, "you've been here since the beginning. You're the only one who knows the finer points of this organization."  
  
Cain shrugged. "Signas knows them too, now. He's a Reploid, so the government might not be so warm and cuddly towards him, but he's the right man for the job. I know it."  
  
Surprisingly, the feeling of resentment toward Cain's decision that the two Reploids knew they'd face didn't last very long at all. They found themselves quickly accepting it as something that had to be, and both nodded, though still somewhat reluctantly.  
  
"You're an old dude," Zero pointed out with a weak grin of his own. "I guess it's about time you started living on Social Security, like the rest of the old dudes."  
  
"Thank you very much, you ass." Cain laughed.  
  
"So," X said thoughtfully, "what are you going to be doing when you leave this place?"  
  
"I never said I was leaving this place," Cain pointed out.  
  
Zero blinked. "But you said…oh."  
  
The scientist nodded. "I'm stepping down from Hunter command, and I'm turning over the vast majority of Cain Industries to my partners. My business life will be less frantic, and I intend to relax in a cloud of lethargy, like the old dude Zero says I am. But I'm still going to be hanging around the HQ."  
  
"Doing what?" X wanted to know.  
  
"Whatever I want." He grinned. "To a certain extent, anyway. I'll have no real authority, but most people here who are in charge like me well enough that no one will feel insulted if I want to help them with something, or provide my 'expert opinion' on certain matters. It is, after all, a transition phase in our organization, and I imagine there will be plenty of questions that only I can answer."  
  
Which meant, Zero realized, that there were still issues to be resolved in the intelligence department. Cain had been the only one since the Hunters were established who'd been privy to every piece of information that the Hunters had collected, and there were some things only he knew about.  
  
"I see, then." X was visibly relieved.  
  
Cain grinned evilly at the robot whose discovery changed the course of his life. "I wouldn't leave you alone here, X. I know how much the other Reploids like to pick on you."  
  
X's face flashed with confused embarrassment. "What the hell are you—"  
  
"Now, X," Zero said, forcing himself not to laugh, "what have I told you about anger management?"  
  
X, in all his defensiveness, was about to snap back a retort but calmed down before it could happen. "Look who's talking, Captain Kill'emall," he said with a lopsided grin.  
  
Zero blinked, very innocently. "I hope you're not implying that I enjoy the thrill and exhilaration of hand to hand combat, or anything."  
  
Cain laughed again. "No, Zero, never! You're just a fluffy teddy bear waiting for hugging." And for once, the doctor saw with amusement, Zero didn't have a witty retort to counter with.  
  
"Well, Doc," X got back on track, "why now?"  
  
Cain shrugged. "Too much stress. In the 'old days', the mission was simple—wait for a Maverick revolt, and then quash it. Now, though, we have to make a bunch of damned decisions. We decide who the Mavericks are before we send people in to get them…because the Mavericks aren't making the first move anymore. They no longer can." The old man rubbed his eyes, which were begging to be closed for 8 hours or so. It was rather late. "Repliforce, too. I know we technically had no choice but to fight them, but still I feel guilty about letting it happen in the first place. I mean, the Repliforce was my idea to begin with."  
  
"You couldn't have stopped the revolution from happening," Zero said firmly. "Sigma outthought all of us that time. At least you gave those Reploid soldiers the pride they'd been looking for, if only for a while."  
  
Cain nodded distractedly. "No matter how many times you say that, Zero, I still feel guilty about it." He looked both of his Reploid companions in their eyes. "We can talk more about this later. For now, we've got a much more serious matter on our hands."  
  
They both nodded, and Zero took the opportunity to ask a question that probably wouldn't have been fitting conversation during the meeting. "About these Buzzbombs, Doc…how worried are you?"  
  
Cain breathed a very long sigh, taking his time while considering the answer. "Really, Zero, X, I don't know. I don't have any real feeling about this." He sighed yet again. "That, above all, is why I'm leaving. I don't have any hunches or gut feelings anymore. It's all become too routine for me. The Buzzbombs, in theory, can be the undoing of the entire Hunter organization. All they need is some fine-tuning, and while it is difficult, it is still possible. Fine, I accept that. It should worry me, though, and the worry isn't there. Signas, on the other hand, is as concerned as he should be. He's still got the vigor in him to do this job, and that's why he can do this better than I can at this point."  
  
Everyone was silent for a while. X finally nodded acceptance and let out a sigh of his own. "All right. So, the current thing is BROKEN HALO. Let's just worry about that for now."  
  
"Yeah," Zero agreed with a nod. "What's next with that?"  
  
"A lot of waiting, believe it or not. We need intelligence and we need time to mobilize, and all that takes more time." More time than we might have left, his eyes said.  
  
Zero and X both caught the message, and they knew right away that while Cain said for the most part that things were routine for him, even he could recognize the threat the Buzzbombs posed, and he was, indeed, rather worried.  
  
"All right," Zero confirmed. "I guess we've got some training to do, then."  
  
Cain nodded affirmative. "Keep yourselves on alert. No one knows what may happen in the next few days."  
  
____________________  
  
A meeting between top ranked figures in both the Hunter Army and the Megacity Army required some setting up, even in this grave situation. In order for Signas and Zero to meet with the Megacity Council, the Sub-City 3 location had to be finalized, requests had to be filed, etc. The meeting would of course take place, but without proper notification for both sides there would be, of course, quite some confusion.  
  
The communication was handled by computer, like everything else these days. Men in the intelligence department encrypted the messages in the usual fashion and sent them via x-mail to fronts used by the Megacity Army. The term "x-mail" referred to a type of e-mail that was considered to be absolutely secure. It was nothing like the e-mail used commonly by surfers of cyberspace, since the program was composed of a confusing series of codes in order to assure security. The recipients, of course, knew how to break the code and read the message. It was a simple, everyday process that, the Invisible Men thought, was better suited for secretaries.  
  
The analyst overseeing the message transfer reread what had been written—indecipherable lines of code that, when translated, equated to COMMs SIGNAS/ZERO, w/DETAIL: SUBCITY3, ASAP. MEET w/COUNCIL TO DISCUSS ISSUE. GATE REQUESTED. It seemed rather sparse, as usual, but the other side always knew what to make of it, and upon further reflection the analyst decided that the less words there were to confuse things, the better. He gave the okay to send the message through their secure line in cyberspace.  
  
About a mile away, in an office used by the intelligence wing of the Megacity Army, another analyst decrypted the message. Commanders Signas and Zero, with a guard detail—probably for Signas, the analyst thought—will meet in Sub-City 3 as soon as possible with the Megacity Council to discuss the "issue", which of course could be nothing other than the Buzzbomb scare. The Hunters also wanted Gate to be there, though the analyst didn't quite know why. Nevertheless he forwarded the message to his superiors, who quickly gave him the go-ahead to send the Army's response: AFFIRMATIVE. WEDNESDAY, 0900 HOURS. CITY HALL. GATE WILL BE THERE.  
  
Back at Hunter HQ, the first analyst read the reply. The meeting would take place Wednesday morning at the City Hall building, and Signas' scientist comrade would be there. He brought the message to Seitz, and from there it went to Caligula, and it was done.  
  
The whole point of the secure lines was that a gathering of human and Hunter leaders would be a prime target for Mavericks…especially Mavericks with nukes. Now that everything was official, more specific details could be worked out interpersonally, but even that would have to be discreet. Zero would need to get in touch with Colonel Jones, the commanding officer of Alden Military Base, and set up that side meeting, probably with Caligula's help.  
  
The Invisible Men considered the codes that they used to encrypt the data unbreakable. They'd used Doppler's root code and from it created the ultimate protection for their data. The UNDINE site was a dream come true for many in the communications business, and so they of course didn't think twice about using Doppler's code on this information.  
  
Unfortunately, unlike Caligula, Seitz, Zion, and Signas, the rest of the Invisible Men didn't know that Malevex had already found the UNDINE site. Its discovery had been an accident, but the covert soldier had known a good thing when he'd seen it, and taken all the remaining information back to Cyber Peacock, who'd been rather amazed by Doppler's genius, and it took a great lot of effort to amaze Cyber Peacock. The self-proclaimed King of Cyberspace easily reproduced the code in various forms, and had soon realized that he might well have the key to unlocking the Hunter code banks. A few random tests on captured data had confirmed this theory, and before long Cyber was using it to break into some really juicy information…which he mostly kept to himself. Another little known fact was that Cyber Peacock really had his own motives and plans for the future, and he wanted some trump cards that only he could use.  
  
Against Cyber's wishes, however, Malevex had allowed the sale of the core code to Kou Cao, the Gold Serpent. Figuring that he owed the man plenty already, Malevex practically gave the code away, and the Serpent had been judicious about its use. He made sure that only certain people in his organization knew the code, and he monitored its usage at all times. If the Hunters lost too much information at once, alarms would go off in their minds and the core code would be changed. The Serpent did not want that, not when he had such an excellent source of information at his fingertips.  
  
The first of the two messages sent back and forth by the Hunters and the Army was intercepted during a routine and quite random sweep of the Hunter system by a cracker working for Kou Cao. There had been no warning at all. Through an act of simple serendipity, a top secret and highly sensitive transmission was now in the hands of the black market. Alerted, the cracker had waited for a while and managed to pick up the Army's response. So, two high-ranking Hunters were going someplace fairly isolated to meet with bigwigs in the Army, eh? This information, the cracker thought, would be worth a fortune.  
  
The cracker—he was a human, though he didn't care about endangering the protectors of his species; he lived only for himself—made another communication with the Reploid who served as his link to the Serpent, and soon received his newest job: walk down the street and hand the captured data, on a floppy disc, to the Reploid in question. It was that easy, and for that simple task he'd be paid nearly ten thousand dollars. Wow. He'd stumbled onto something big, the cracker knew, but he didn't ever busy himself with details. 10 K…that was enough for him to buy that place in Miami, or, more specifically, Megacity 8. The cracker threw on a coat and walked outside. It was getting late, he saw. The sun was gone and the moon was slowly rising, illuminating the stars overhead, he was sure, though he couldn't see any stars tonight due to the cloud cover. A light but constant stream of rain fell from the sky, as it had for the past three hours, and the cracker mumbled a curse—he hated being wet.  
  
The Reploid, a man named Guyver, was in the predetermined spot. He wore a heavy black raincoat that disguised his innate bulk. Guyver was a strongman, per se, even though the blue Reploid was rather short. He did, however, have one of the best brains in the black market, and for that reason the Serpent was constantly relying on him.  
  
The cracker was chewing gum. It allowed him to concentrate on chewing, so he didn't do anything stupid. The sidewalk was fairly crowded, and no one even noticed the brush pass. Guyver walked off with a disc containing information that certain Mavericks would pay dearly for, he was sure, and the cracker returned to his flat empty handed, though ten thousand dollars would soon find its way into his bank account. After all, how could the Serpent get such a following if he didn't follow through on his word?  
  
____________________  
  
Two hours later the rain was still falling and the moon was high in the sky, visible through brief breaks in the cloud cover. Guyver once more walked along the streets of the busy metropolitan district, puffing on a cigarette with his hands in the pockets of his heavy raincoat. He didn't really mind if someone saw him—if anyone asked, he was a rather well reputed auto salesman. He even had the papers to prove it, Guyver thought with an inner smile. The Reploid had no political affiliation, meaning that neither the Hunters nor the Mavericks had his support. Guyver supported Guyver. The fact that Kou Cao trusted him, at least as far as trust could go in this business, meant that Guyver was richer than he'd ever needed to be, and the Kou knew well that his associate wasn't of the kind to give up on so good a thing. Guyver did a lot of good for the Serpent. Recently he had been responsible for two jobs that his boss deemed to be very important. The first had been setting up Gredam and Malevex, the new Maverick commanders, with the hacker they needed to get their all-important list from Hunter HQ, using the UNDINE code to break into the Hunter databanks, of course. The hacker was still there, Guyver remembered, probably waiting to fulfill some other role in the great Maverick plot. Guyver had also pressured two thugs named Boris and Leonid to harass an old guy named Mortar, at the request of the Serpent himself. Guyver had no idea why the Serpent had wanted Mortar bothered, but the Serpent's mind was a difficult thing to read, so he never asked questions. Because of his usefulness and general loyalty, Guyver was one of the few people in the world who got to do what he was going to do tonight—make contact with the Gold Serpent.  
  
He waited patiently for the light to change and crossed the street in the manner of any tired city dweller. He constantly scanned the streets, looking for the signal. No passerby would ever detect it, but once you knew what to look for, it was surprisingly easy to spot a covert message. Guyver's coat had no hood, so no one would possibly remember him as a man who'd hidden his face, as the Serpent definitely would. Two such men together would stand out in a person's mind, Guyver knew. He kept looking, and finally there it was: a flickering street lamp. Guyver paid close attention and timed the distance between the flickers, just in case it was a regular malfunction. It wasn't. Guyver started immediately in that direction. Current street lamp models ran off internal computers that switched them off automatically during the daytime. It was a fairly simple operation to plant a device that would scramble the program at a push of a button, ideally pushed at some remote location. Guyver's eyes casually swept the street near the lamp, but in the end his vigilance wasn't needed. A man of medium height wearing a brown, hooded raincoat passed him on the right, brushing Guyver's arm with his elbow. Guyver took the cigarette from his mouth and casually tossed it aside onto the street. The man to his right sneezed, presumably because of the cold, damp weather, but forced sneezing was something that Kou Cao was getting good at and both of them knew it.  
  
"Shitty weather," Guyver observed.  
  
"Well, it can only get better," replied Kou Cao, the Gold Serpent. "At least it's not as bad as it was last week. You couldn't see for shit. Almost drove my car off the bridge."  
  
"Ma Nature's a bitch," Guyver chuckled, reciting his lines perfectly. They spoke evenly, not too loud, and not too soft. It was casual conversation to the average passerby. The Serpent's voice was rather nondescript, Guyver thought. It was possible that the Serpent was disguising his voice, but on further reflection it seemed like quite a hassle. Appearance wise, Kou Cao wasn't much different from an average human. His face was shrouded in the shadow cast by his hood, but Guyver had no idea if it was gears or bones that lurked behind the raincoat. Even to one of his most trusted associates, the Gold Serpent was a mystery. "How is the family?"  
  
"They're getting along," the Serpent replied curtly. "Anything new with you?"  
  
"Yeah, as a matter of fact." Guyver fished discreetly in his pocket for the cracker's disc. "I got a little present from a friend downtown. Wanna see?" In a flash, the disc was out of Guyver's hands, and both men returned their hands inside the pockets of their raincoats. The transfer had been made, and now it was time for the explanation.  
  
"Our friends are coming to see the bigwigs?" Kou Cao asked, guardedly but still casually.  
  
"That they are," Guyver replied in a similar tone. "Blondie and Siggy are paying a visit to the suburbs. The Council's headed there too."  
  
The Serpent smiled. He found the nicknames for Zero and Signas amusing. "That's all?"  
  
Guyver shrugged easily. "I guess they'll be bringing some guards along. Nothing serious."  
  
Kou Cao was silent for a while. Then, "You know, I bet they'd do a lot with this information."  
  
Guyver knew who "they" were, and he immediately went on guard. While he didn't know the complete machinations of the Serpent's mind, he did know that the Mavericks had nuclear weapons at their disposal…he was the one who'd come across the information as to where the Buzzbombs were buried, after all, courtesy of a Reploid within the government, an aide to that Kitao man. Kou hadn't been all that surprised by the information, but the Mavericks had leapt on the opportunity like a cat on a ball of yarn. "I'd be careful, you know. You don't know what will come of this. They're only supposed to have the merchandise for use as a bargaining chip, remember?" The merchandise was, of course, the Buzzbombs. The Mavericks needed a bargaining chip, and the nukes were it. After all, what else could you do with broken warheads? There was no way that they could be used. Well, Guyver corrected himself, there was no way that he could think of that they could be used. A clever physicist could probably reactivate the Buzzbombs, but did the Mavericks have one of those? Guyver didn't think so.  
  
The Serpent was shaking his head. "I don't think they'd use the merchandise. But still, it would be a nice opportunity. Getting rid of those two nuisances would be a major step forward."  
  
"Still," Guyver protested, knowing that the Serpent had already made up his mind but going ahead anyway, "their projects aren't completed yet. An attack now will just accelerate the Hunter strike, and they'll be taken off guard."  
  
"They're already off guard. The merchandise was taken, and the Hunters found out about it. Stalling is no longer an option…our friends have to strike before the enemy does. But not with the merchandise, I don't think. They have other assets they can use."  
  
"Do you think it will work?"  
  
"Who knows?" the Serpent answered. "I don't have any reason to doubt their intelligence. Besides, they don't have the final say-so. All they can do is advise. It's up to someone else to decide whether or not to ever use the merchandise."  
  
"But he'll authorize it," Guyver pointed out. "It's too tempting for him to do otherwise. He'll order The Team to launch, and then this entire city is in trouble."  
  
The Serpent realized what Guyver was saying. "Yes…this information will accelerate the havoc, won't it?" They'd been walking for several blocks now, and both were thoroughly wet and miserable. It was time to close off the conversation. Besides, the Serpent had been in the open longer than he'd wanted to be. "I'll tell them. But, you need to get to work quickly." The Serpent glanced towards his accomplice. "You know who our more prominent contacts are. Get them out of the city…have them arrange business trips, or something. It would be a good time to go someplace else, for a while," he insinuated severely.  
  
Guyver shuddered involuntarily. If it really happens…if all this leads to the kind of chaos I think it will…if the Buzzbombs are activated, nothing in the Megacity is safe. Yes…it's time to evacuate. There's no telling how this will end up. "I understand."  
  
It was that simple. The Serpent had nothing more to say, and turned right at the next corner. Guyver walked forward a few more blocks before catching a cab back to his apartment. He could afford so much better, he knew, but he liked this atmosphere. It was easy, and convenient. No suspicion could be drawn to a common apartment room. He sighed as he removed his coat. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off, trying to smile through his nervousness. Another successful meet. He'd be compensated, he knew, but there was no satisfaction in the night's work. Instead, a heavy dread had settled in the pit of his stomach.  
  
The Serpent knows what he is doing, Guyver reminded himself. He has some grand plan set up, and I'm really just a pawn in it. I'm not supposed to care. I have my money and I'm happy with it.  
  
But really, was the fact that the Serpent knew what he was doing a good thing? No one else knew what the Serpent was doing…nobody at all. Guyver had originally imagined that it was a plan to expand his control into the Maverick ranks, but now it seemed somehow like there was something else going on entirely. When the Serpent's plan culminated…would it involve the use of nuclear weapons? Guyver had accepted the assurances that the Buzzbombs were strictly to be used as bargaining chips, but he wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure about anything. Would anything be left standing in the Megacity after the Gold Serpent was done with it?  
  
Yes, Guyver realized, it was a very good time to leave Megacity 5. 


	24. Reconnaissance

1 Chapter Twenty-Three: Reconnaissance  
  
They called him the Breaker. He'd never told anyone what his real name was, and he planned to keep it that way. His nickname had come from his size, mainly. The Breaker was a big, olive green Reploid with solid limbs and a barrel chest. He appeared to be just another brute, but all you really needed to see were his eyes. They were as green as the rest of him, and you could almost see the intelligence behind them. The Breaker was a crafty one, passerby would think. He was not someone who could be misled easily, though countless officers had tried to do just that.  
  
Officers, the Breaker scoffed. As if he were really a part of the Maverick army. Sure, he considered himself to be a Maverick in principle, but he'd never actually joined up with their ranks. The Breaker had no problem with killing humans, since killing was a regular part of his job. He didn't like the overgrown monkeys, anyway. Too high on their thrones, he thought. Besides, Reploids usually paid better for his services. He took jobs for both humans and Reploids, and even a few Maverick officers. The problem with that was that the Mavericks could get pretty high on their thrones, too. The Breaker would calmly explain that he was not a soldier—he was a businessman. He would then demand his pay and leave. No one ever denied him his salary…men like the Breaker were not men you wanted angry with you. It wasn't that he was especially powerful compared to some of his other fellow Reploids, he knew. It was his demeanor, always calm, cool, and composed, and the way he made his demands that scared the hell out of those who were giving him a hard time. He didn't consider himself to be a brigand or a brute, just a professional.  
  
This job, however, was the closest he'd ever come to full time Maverick service. The Breaker walked down the path—actually it wasn't a path at all, just a route through trees that he and his "comrades" had been forced to memorize—towards the location of his newest home. He never stayed in one place long, though he generally kept his services limited to South America. He had found that he liked this jungle setting, and that he worked well in it. He certainly wasn't having much trouble fulfilling this particular jungle assignment, but that could change at any moment, he knew. He was playing with fire, more so than ever before. All of them were, but the rest of them were Mavericks and didn't care. They had some Grand Goal that they had to achieve. The Breaker's goal was a paycheck, preferably wired to his Swiss account. Even this far in the future, the Swiss were the best in that particular area. His employer, a rather curious little Maverick, was terribly unorthodox in his methods, even annoyingly so, but he was proving to be very effective, and the Breaker figured he could live with that. That Maverick was in charge of all the more technical aspects of construction. All that the Breaker had to do was manage security. That was, after all, his specialty. He could develop nearly foolproof security measures, but most of the really good ones were only temporary. That was all right, the Maverick had assured him. All they needed was some help in keeping the Hunters away from this particular spot of the Amazon until the complex became operational.  
  
They still had a long way to go, the Breaker thought as he pushed some wet tropical foliage out of his way. As they snapped back he caught some of the cool droplets of morning dew as they flew from the leaves. It was vaguely refreshing; this was a rather hot place. The base—for that was what the "complex" had to be, the Breaker knew—was barely out of the beginning stages. The foundation had been laid and the walls were up, but there was still a lot of structural work to be done, and the construction crew that the Mavericks had working for them wasn't moving quite fast enough. But that wasn't fair, was it? They were working as fast as they could, considering the reward they'd been promised. None of the construction workers really had any idea who they were working for, and they were breaking several laws by keeping this project a secret, but money was still money, the Breaker thought with a smirk as he casually squashed a rather huge spider that had been unfortunate enough to stop in the Reploid's path.  
  
The Breaker had no idea what the Mavericks wanted to do here in Brazil. They weren't building a base for the fun of it, and judging by the way that the commanding Maverick was acting lately, time for the project was running short. The Breaker had heard on the news that Sigma had been killed again, way, way up in New York…or Megacity 5, as it was called now. The Breaker had mixed feelings about the Megacity System. For one thing, it was a rather effective way for countries to live and coexist, and it also kept the countries that weren't a part of the system in bad shape, something that the Breaker could exploit. On the other hand, the System was constantly expanding its reach across the globe. The Megacity Council ran the Megacity System's legislative body, and the Breaker was somewhat skeptical about the thought of a single panel of men controlling the entire world. But, really, that was hardly his concern.  
  
His concern, he thought as he entered the perimeter of the Brazilian complex, was guarding this area and keeping the project a secret. That involved clandestine business sometimes. If there were ever a breach in security, it would be up to him to find and neutralize the leak. That was also something that the Breaker was particularly good at. He blessed the wet jungle ground and the humid jungle air. It allowed him to walk in near silence, despite his size, except for the squishing of leaves underneath his heavy feet, since the wetness in the air absorbed noise like a sponge. He was slow and methodical, taking in every sight and scanning for abnormalities. There were none, nor did he expect there to be. It was just a habit, and one that was good to have, he thought.  
  
His trained ears heard the approach from a mile away, but he did not react in any other way but to sigh and turn slightly to his right. He was within eyeshot of the construction site, and one of the Mavericks was running up to meet him. The Breaker didn't really like this one. Tekki, was that his name? Maybe that was it. At any rate, the Maverick was no good at stealth, and it almost pained the Breaker to see how carelessly he was being approached. Were he a Hunter, he knew, he could probably take out most of the Mavericks present before any of them noticed what was going on. He probably wouldn't be able to defeat them all, he conceded, since he wasn't exactly omnipotent. But if he single handedly could launch a guerilla attack on this place, he shuddered to think what an organized Hunter assault team might be able to do. The Hunter HQ in Brazil wasn't notably effective, but when had they ever needed to be? X and Zero always turned up around the world when things got really bad. It was a bad idea, the Breaker thought, to rely on two men to save the world. But, again, that wasn't his concern. His concern was keeping this place safe for a few more days until the Maverick in charge could bring down a more heavily armed defensive team.  
  
The Maverick named Tekki came to a halt before the Breaker and nodded his head respectfully. It was only wise to be respectful towards a big guy like the Breaker, after all. "The commander wants a word with you, sir." The sir wasn't necessary, since the Breaker wasn't an officer, but he wasn't a regular soldier either, so Tekki played it safe.  
  
"Does he," the Breaker responded evenly. "He's in the control room?"  
  
"What's finished of it," Tekki affirmed with a nod.  
  
The Breaker's eyes flashed with disapproval, but Tekki didn't catch it. "Fine. See if you can get back to your post without alerting anyone."  
  
"Sir…?"  
  
He didn't get it, the Breaker saw, but then, he never did. The big Reploid walked off towards the control center leaving a confused Tekki in his wake. He wiped the dampness off his forehead as he frowned. He didn't have the ability to sweat, but the condensation caused by the jungle's humidity more than negated that fact. How many times did he have to tell that commander? The control room was full of extremely heavy pieces of equipment, and it wasn't stable yet. Even a Reploid's body wouldn't be able to handle several tons of weight crashing down on top of it, especially a tiny guy like that. The Breaker sighed and shook his head as he entered the beginnings of a Maverick base. The competency of the Mavericks wasn't his problem, he reminded himself.  
  
____________________  
  
Tekki heard the slight buzzing around the usual hour. Sometimes, in the early morning or at night, there came the buzzing of insects around the complex. It was the same group of insects each time, Tekki thought, since the noise never really changed. He didn't know much of anything about entomology, and just assumed, like his colleagues, that a nearby nest of insects rose and buzzed about around certain times of day. Insects had circadian rhythms, too, didn't they? Circadian was even named after the circada bug, Tekki thought, badly mangling the bug's name. Even the Breaker would have probably laughed in his face if he'd presented that poor theory.  
  
Simple ignorance was really a great thing sometimes. Not twelve feet away from Tekki, a spy moved through the foliage. It wasn't a very conspicuous spy, and if one of the Mavericks had seen it from afar they wouldn't have paid it much attention at all, for it perfectly resembled a small dragonfly. Closer inspection would have exposed it for the drone it was, and an alert would be raised, but that wasn't a problem, was it? The pilot of the dragonfly knew very well how to use his toys, and had never once been caught in the act by the enemy. Still, there was a first time for everything, and he knew it. The dragonfly's "mouth" was a combination of things. Usually it was a blaster that fired orbs of plasma at a target, but now it was fitted with a camera that sent images to a remote computer screen that really wasn't far away. Actually, the images passed through the mind of the pilot, but since he'd figured that his comrades would want to see what was going on too, he'd set up the computer linkup.  
  
This wasn't the only dragonfly in motion this morning. Five others buzzed around the ends of the construction site, gathering information in a way no manual reconnaissance could ever hope to better. A hundred and fifty feet away, safely nestled away from the patrolling Mavericks yet dangerously close to the perimeter at the same time, two men were huddled around one of the computers. Both were humans, and were coated in camouflage paint and sported army field uniforms to blend in with the scenery. They had practiced their craft to the point of perfection, and were virtually invisible. Even the computer was hidden well.  
  
"What're you thinking, Julio?" one man all but whispered without moving his eyes from the screen.  
  
"I'm thinkin' something's going down here," responded Julio Gomez, a former sergeant in the Brazilian army. He'd retired three years ago, but not to sit around. He'd met an agent during his service, an agent who worked with a guy up north. Gomez had been tired of working for the army anyway, and jumped at the chance to do jungle recon with the agent, who was monitoring the area for a scientist named Gate, who worked with the Megacity System. Apparently the Megacity System was a little nervous about the political situation in Brazil; their army had been a little aggressive lately. Gate had taken it upon himself to see if something was really going on, and Gomez was fine with helping out. Besides, the company was good and the pay was surprisingly decent. "Maybe my old pals are up to something after all, eh?"  
  
"Pricks," Manny Rodriguez observed. He was not an army man; rather, he was a mercenary trained by the Old Guard, a term used to identify a former right wing group that had been popular in Brazil a few years ago. Rodriguez had become thoroughly disillusioned with government service and saw Gate's position as very appealing. Gate was loyal to peace, not the Megacities, and the government of Brazil more or less recognized Gate's neutrality, as did most other civilized nations. The man really got around, Rodriguez thought. "So what do you think they're building?"  
  
"Sure as hell ain't a McDonalds," Gomez responded. Those were literally everywhere, too. "Well, what have we here…" He tapped a button on the computer keypad. A hundred feet ahead, one of the dragonflies moved in a little closer. The camera focused in on a big Reploid headed towards the largest area of the building. "Big son of a bitch, ain't he?"  
  
"Probably a puss," Rodriguez grinned. The big ones were always the easiest targets for guerillas. "Where do you think he's off to in such a hurry?"  
  
"Take a piss," Gomez shrugged. They both found that amusing. They didn't have anything big against Reploids—they hated Mavericks, of course, but the other Reploids weren't any better or worse than humans in their eyes—but they were both annoyed by the silent arrogance most Reploids displayed.  
  
"Gomez, Rodriguez, what do you got?" The voice came from Gomez's radio.  
  
"Side shots, boss," Gomez replied. "We snapped one of a big Reploid too. Doesn't ring any bells, but who knows?"  
  
"Got it," the boss replied. "I'm coming over there."  
  
"That's a roger," Rodriguez affirmed.  
  
It didn't take long at all. They heard Gate's agent approach due to the buzzing of his wings—it wasn't loud, but any noise seemed like a scream to these men. Commander Yammark emerged from the foliage behind Rodriguez and Gomez, hovering low to the ground. Yammark strongly resembled a larger version of the dragonfly drones he controlled. He was one of those Reploids who would never be able to pass as a human. His armor was green and white, and he didn't have hands, really. Instead, long thin prongs that resembled lances extended from his forearms, and his face was hidden behind a mask with giant red globes around the eyes, perfecting the dragonfly image. Yammark had been assembled in Brazil, working for the reconnaissance wing of their intelligence service until he'd been approached by Gate. Gate's efforts to stabilize Brazil had gained him the government's trust, and since all the data Yammark sent to his boss first went through the Brazilian government, no one really minded one way or another what the reconnaissance expert did for Gate. Rodriguez and Gomez both worked for the money, but they also believed in the cause that Yammark represented, if nothing else because the Maverick threat had not been terribly strong in Brazil, but sooner or later it would have to happen, and if this Gate guy could maybe put a stop to it all, more power to him.  
  
"Show me the big one," Commander Yammark said immediately.  
  
"Here we go," Gomez said as he pulled up an image on the screen. Commander Yammark got his first view of the Breaker, a man who would become a giant menace to his operation, though Yammark couldn't have known that yet.  
  
"He's big all right," Yammark observed. "Knows what he's doing, from the looks of his movements. Probably a security puke," the dragonfly Reploid concluded quickly. "Where's he headed?"  
  
"Large central structure," Gomez pointed out, switching back to the live feed offered by the dragonfly drones. "How 'bout it, boss? What is this place supposed to be?"  
  
"I don't know," Yammark replied truthfully. "That's what we're here to find out, though." The Reploid's eyes became almost vacant, but his two comrades knew that he was only reverting to the gaze of his drones, which were linked to and controlled by his CPU.  
  
"Think we got some black op going?" Rodriguez mused; looking ahead with his binoculars to make sure no one was in the immediate area. "Think the gov's got something going here?"  
  
"No clue," Yammark said distractedly. He snapped out of it and looked back at his two guerillas. "I think I'd have heard something by now…and at any rate, there's not a whole lot the government can do this far out in the rainforest. I think it's secluded for a reason."  
  
"Of course," Rodriguez agreed, "but who's doing the secluding?"  
  
"Yo," Gomez slapped Yammark's arm and motioned around the screen. "Take a look at the sentries, and then at the construction crews." He looked to Rodriguez. "You see what I see?"  
  
"What do you see?" Rodriguez asked, not feeling up to a guessing game.  
  
"I get it," Yammark said, becoming distant again. When he stopped manual surveillance he scratched the spot on his helmet where his chin would be with one of his pronged arms and frowned. "A few of the construction workers are humans, but aside from that…"  
  
"Oh," Rodriguez realized. "Every other person here is a Reploid."  
  
"Mavericks?" Gomez spoke the word very quietly, as though its mere mention might bring forth the said evildoers.  
  
"It's not like the army to send specific units like that…all-Reploid or all-human, I mean." Yammark frowned again, even though no one could see it. "Even the local Hunter units don't have specific Reploid teams."  
  
"So, Mavericks, then?" Rodriguez wondered.  
  
"Maybe," Yammark allowed. He looked through the eyes of the dragonfly closest to the compound that the Breaker had just entered. No guards were patrolling in the immediate vicinity, and even if they saw the drone from afar, who'd care about a simple little dragonfly? "I'm going to see if I can bring a bug close to one of those holes in the wall," Yammark announced, referring to the slits of open space where steel beams would soon be fitted in order to support the coming ceiling. A hundred feet in front of the guerillas, a dragonfly fluttered out of the foliage and buzzed about dumbly for a little while before heading up and landing in one of the cracks looking into the center of the complex. Tekki noticed it from his post, but didn't even commit the sight to memory. It was, after all, just a bug.  
  
____________________  
  
The Breaker stared down in quiet amusement at the small Maverick before him. The Brazilian commander was a bit odd and certainly unimposing at first glance, but then, when had mushrooms ever struck terror into people's hearts? The Breaker of course knew something about the biological weapons that this Maverick had developed during the Repliforce Uprising—tried to develop, anyway. The Hunters had defeated him before his plans could come to fruitation…twice, actually, the Breaker realized. Somehow, though, Split Mushroom had managed to survive even his supposed final battle with X inside the Final Weapon, and was for whatever reason here in Brazil, working for commanders up north. And now, this little Maverick was finally asking the Breaker questions that mattered.  
  
"So what, then? We're looking at two weeks?"  
  
"Probably less than that," Split Mushroom replied to his temporary security chief. He was little more than four feet tall, decked out in orange armor shaped to perfectly resemble a bipedal mushroom, complete with a funnily shaped head. He was an amusing Reploid, with the voice and impatience of an adolescent. Split eschewed things like proper military order and cared only about getting the job done as quickly as possible, and that, the Breaker decided, was perfectly fine with him. "A squad from up north is coming over to handle security. Leave it to northerners to drag their feet!" Split had only been in the southern hemisphere for a year, but already considered himself a "southerner". He must have had some bad experiences up north, the Breaker thought, to make him resent northerners so much. "After that, some stuff will happen in the Megacity System, and we'll be getting some VIPs."  
  
"VIPs?" the Breaker asked quizzically.  
  
Split's voice carried the hints of a grin—he had no real mouth, just a green gas mask type thing below his eyes. "You don't need to know that, at least not now. I need you to keep this place secure for a little more than a week, and that's all. If you do good, I might want to keep you on."  
  
"I'm not a part of the Maverick forces," the Breaker pointed out. "I'm a businessman."  
  
"Right, a businessman," Split waved it off. "Well, the Mavericks can pay our businessmen well! We have special assets."  
  
"I'm sure," the Breaker said, hoping to get onto more important matters. He spent the next five minutes laying out a perimeter plan that required aerial surveillance drones among other things, and heavy machine gun encampments at strategic points. He'd prefer to set up an electric alarm system, he said, but didn't know if it would be possible.  
  
Split Mushroom took everything in with his usual bored expressions, even though the Breaker knew that the Maverick was going to do everything that was suggested to him. Split, who got his name from his ability to produce clones of himself, was good at taking advice, even if he did make it his personal goal never to let anyone else in the world know that.  
  
"You can get to work, then," Split said when the Breaker had finished. "Go wherever you need to. In the meantime I'll see what I can do about these supplies you want."  
  
Victory, the Breaker thought. Now, things would only get easier. "Thank you. Oh, and one more thing," he added as he headed for the door.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"This place," the Breaker waved a hand to indicate the entire chamber, "isn't safe. At any moment it could come crashing down, and then you're screwed."  
  
"Got it," Mushroom replied in a different sort of boredom that let the Breaker know that this time his employer didn't care what he thought. Mushrooms, the Breaker thought as he left. You just could never get through to them. It took him a full minute to begin chuckling at that thought.  
  
____________________  
  
"Jesucristo!" Rodriguez breathed. "This is serious shit!"  
  
"It's dangerous, like," Yammark agreed.  
  
Gomez simply stared at the screen in quiet disbelief. He'd never actually seen a Maverick boss before, and while Split Mushroom wasn't the most prominent Maverick in the world, Gomez still knew him by sight. Most people in the world could easily recollect the names and faces of all thirty-two Maverick bosses who'd served as the vassals for the big barons during the four wars.  
  
Commander Yammark was really frowning now. The presence of Split Mushroom not only meant that this was indeed a Maverick project, but a fairly important one at that, unless Split was just setting up his own base of operations. That was unlikely, Yammark decided. Mushroom wouldn't have the funds for a place this big.  
  
"How many shots did we get of that overgrown fungus?" Rodriguez asked.  
  
"Enough," Yammark promised.  
  
"What now?" Gomez said, scanning the area with his own binoculars. All that needed to happen was for one sentry to move into the wrong place at the wrong time, and Yammark's guerillas would be exposed.  
  
"A few more passes," Yammark decided. "And then we go home. This place is getting more dangerous with each passing second, I think." He breathed a curse. "Gate will want to see this right away. And not just him."  
  
"Right," Rodriguez agreed. "Shit, what the hell have we just found?"  
  
____________________  
  
The Breaker didn't see a dragonfly leave the top of a wall behind him and fly back into the foliage. What he did see, however, was a different dragonfly buzzing harmlessly in front of him, directly in his line of travel. In the shock caused by the discovery of Split Mushroom's presence, Yammark had mistakenly left his other drones idle, and the Breaker came upon the bug just as Yammark realized his mistake. The big Reploid caught the annoying insect in his hand and squashed it, and immediately stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
____________________  
  
"Shit!" Gomez nearly gagged on the word. "God damn it!!!"  
  
Next to him, Commander Yammark froze, drowning in a pool of real horror.  
  
____________________  
  
"What in the hell…?" the Breaker asked himself as he opened his hand and observed its new contents. He'd known right away that the bug he'd crushed wasn't an insect at all. Insects just didn't have that many mechanical parts. Insects didn't have ANY mechanical parts. There were some droids that replaced animal life in some parts of the world, the Breaker recalled, but he didn't know of any in Brazil, or at least not this part of it. "What are you?" the security boss asked the clutter of parts in his hand.  
  
It all became clear when he saw the camera. It was mostly intact, the Breaker saw, and suddenly he was able to identify the various parts that composed what had been an insanely clever reconnaissance device. They were being watched, at this very moment.  
  
The Breaker's professional skills kicked in immediately. His first thought was to notify Split Mushroom, but on further reflection he wondered whether or not the Maverick would overreact. The enemy would probably be fleeing right now anyway, he reasoned, but a blind rush into the forest wouldn't make them turn up, not now.  
  
He took out his radio and dialed the frequency for the patrol chief manning the perimeter. "Breaker," he said immediately. He thought his nickname was silly, especially when he had to say it, but it wasn't that bad when others were doing the talking.  
  
"What is it?" the chief replied, somewhat tiredly.  
  
"Wake the hell up, you fool! Have your perimeter guards spread out into the jungle."  
  
"What…?"  
  
"Do as I say. This is an order from Split Mushroom," he lied. Now he really would have to call in to the commander, he realized.  
  
"All right," the chief responded reluctantly. "May I ask why?"  
  
"I believe we're being watched," the Breaker responded. "I've intercepted a surveillance device. Have your guards spread out, but keep them well organized. The enemy party probably is already on their way out, but see if you can't get an ID on them."  
  
"Got it," the chief replied, and cut his radio. The Breaker dialed another frequency. Split Mushroom was annoyed at first, but that soon changed.  
  
____________________  
  
"EZ 1," Commander Yammark hissed into his radio, contacting all his squad members at once, telling them to follow the path to Evacuation Zone 1. "Scramble! We are compromised!"  
  
Rodriguez and Gomez were already moving, the latter carrying the computer underneath his right arm. They both had assault rifles, but knew that if they were forced to use them, they were in a losing situation anyway.  
  
If there was one thing Yammark was known for, it was his ability to disappear quickly and without a trace. The guerillas moved like lightning, heading through the foliage down a path they'd already memorized. Yammark himself was worried. If the Mavericks mobilized quickly, things could get ugly. If they took their time, however, then things wouldn't be so bad. They could probably reach the evacuation point without incident.  
  
Yammark darted through the trees with expert skill. The buzzing of his wings would alert the enemy, so he didn't use them. He ran just as fast as his comrades, and soon EZ-1 was in sight. It was just a patch of clear land where four small hovercrafts awaited. Yammark and his crew boarded them, and the propulsion engines lifted the craft off the ground relatively silently, and the black shapes sped off into the sky.  
  
Gomez breathed heavily from inside the transport. He'd twisted an ankle during the run—one of those damned holes in the ground that the mud concealed. Even during his soldier days, he'd never had a real enemy charging after him with killing on their mind, and the experience was jolting, as could be expected. He started shaking without knowing it, but actually was able to conquer the feeling rather quickly.  
  
Rodriguez noticed nonetheless. "Easy, man. That wasn't so bad."  
  
"Yeah," Gomez replied overdramatically, "biggest scare of my life, almost pissed myself, but it wasn't THAT bad."  
  
"You did not almost piss yourself," Rodriguez chuckled. "It takes more than that to get to you, man."  
  
"Yeah, whatever…I'll repay the bastards next time, is all."  
  
"Next time?" Rodriguez frowned.  
  
"Of course," Commander Yammark said from the pilot's seat. The only reason he rode inside was because he didn't fly as fast as the hover- transports did, and he'd be a sitting duck for the enemies below. "People need to know about this. We're the ones who saw the building from the ground…we'll volunteer to go back in when the time comes to finish the job. We'll have help, of course, but still…"  
  
"We get the fun part," Rodriguez finished with a grin.  
  
Gomez nodded, staring down at the rainforest below. "I wonder what this place is for…?" he asked himself, mainly. He'd find out soon, he knew. That much was for sure.  
  
____________________  
  
Tekki saw the shapes as he leapt over a log, and the sight startled him enough that he tripped on the log and sprawled himself out on the ground. His weapon jarred on the ground and fired a three round burst that killed an unfortunate frog. The sound of the gun scared the hell out of some of the other sentries. One raised his gun and fired a few useless rounds up at the retreating shapes. He would have continued to shoot had the patrol chief not grabbed his arm. Ammo was expensive, after all.  
  
The Breaker listened to their story when they returned with quiet acceptance. So, someone was interested in their little project, eh? Mushroom demanded that he find out what was going on, and that suited him just fine. This was, after all, another one of his specialties. 


	25. Eyes In the Sky

1 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many thanks to everyone who commented on the story so far. It's nice to get feedback, and I'm glad to see that people are enjoying it. I'll try not to disappoint with the final section of the story. Thanks for reading!  
  
2 ____________________  
  
3 Chapter Twenty-Four: Eyes In the Sky  
  
The airstrip behind the Hunter Headquarters building was not very large, but it was the bane of all tired Reploids lately. The scream of a Raven's engines as it sped off into the night was more than enough to bother Hunters in their quarters, and there had been plenty of night flights going on lately. Tonight, though, things were different, and agreeably more dangerous.  
  
Raven 12's engines glowed hot with blue fire as the small combat jet prepared to take off. The Ravens were based on the Dark Cloud model used during the Repliforce Uprising—a model that was now used heavily by Mavericks. Fortunately, the Ravens were superior in most things to the Mavericks' Dark Clouds, though that was small comfort to the pilots flying them. They knew, as did any pilot, that fancy equipment was useless if the pilot was a moron, and a simple Vulcan cannon was quite enough firepower if the pilot was a genius. The Raven model was a small jet, capable of seating one person. It filled a large basement, maybe, and wasn't nearly as fast as the birds that the Army used, but they weren't meant to be. Hunter Ravens were meant for specific missions, and were often charged with attacking specific buildings over and over, or providing cover fire for patrols. Unlike the F-120s used by the Army, the Ravens wouldn't speed right past their target, and could easily circle a specific building or hover in front of an enemy patrol, much like a helicopter. They could just as easily switch to serious speeds, making them an all around priceless asset. Each Raven was armed with twin Vulcan cannons underneath the wings. The bullets they fired were still more than a match for most commonly used armor, and when those didn't work the Ravens had Sidewinder-80 missiles—two of them, usually. The Sidewinders, or S-80s, were terribly compact, perfect for the compact aircraft, and got the job done rather nicely. Most Ravens were painted black as the blackest night, which made them not only resemble their namesake, but also made them perfect for nighttime reconnaissance.  
  
That was why Ravens 12 and 13 were equipped with powerful cameras tonight that would be used to take pictures of Seraph Castle and the surrounding area. The pictures would be used by the Invisible Men to determine Maverick launch capabilities and other enemy assets that they'd need to know about. The mission, of course, carried some danger—they'd be flying right over and around the enemy base. The good news was that plenty of aircraft passed over Seraph Castle each day, and it was rather unlikely that the Mavericks would suddenly pick tonight to react. The lights on the jets were all off, and there would be no way to identify them except for the sound, which really didn't sound that much different from a plane flying at a higher altitude. The fact that it was night didn't make much of a difference—the cameras had been designed with nighttime photography in mind.  
  
Raven 12's engines screamed, and she shot forward like a bullet, lifting off the small runway and shooting into the sky. Its pilot, Carlos Delgado, immediately slowed his speed when he was at a safe altitude and circled the Hunter HQ once. He had to wait for his partner to get in the air, after all. They would approach together. Delgado flipped on his radio. "Getting lonely up here, Alec."  
  
"Gimme a sec!" Alec Tremont replied with a chuckle as he activated Raven 13's engines, now that the runway was clear. A minute later he lifted off, but he didn't slow and circle like Carlos had done. Instead, Alec turned towards his destination and shot off in its direction. "My dead grandma flies faster than you, Carlos!"  
  
"That's the last time I'm courteous to you!" Delgado growled back his challenge. Alec grinned inside his jet, but another voice appeared on their headsets that sobered them up quickly.  
  
"No cowboy shit," Commander Taggart ordered. "Not tonight."  
  
"Read you, bossman," Alec responded with feigned disappointment. "We'll get the job done. We always do."  
  
"Don't get cocky." Both could tell that Taggart was trying to be serious, but they could hear the involuntary smile in his voice. Taggart could never get too hard headed about a mission, they knew, though they also knew he'd be a much happier man if he himself could be doing the flying.  
  
They did have a mission, after all, and so Alec let Carlos catch up, and both Ravens disappeared into the night, headed towards the Catskills. It wouldn't take long, and they didn't move all that fast, since they wanted time to take all the pictures they could before coming back for another pass. Like it or not, the Mavericks would indeed get suspicious after they heard the planes come back a few times.  
  
____________________  
  
James Taggart adjusted the headset that adorned his skull and let out a sigh. "Those two never change."  
  
"You neither, Jimmy," Caligula said from a swivel chair next to Taggart's.  
  
"You'll get to fly soon enough," Signas said, sitting behind them both in a larger, "real" chair, since most swivel chairs in existence couldn't support a Reploid of Signas' size.  
  
"These missions were a breeze," the commander of the Hunter air force said with a nostalgic smile. "I could take a hundred of those pictures before the Mavericks even knew I'd been there."  
  
"Gotta educate the younger generation," Caligula said with a laugh, adjusting his own headset.  
  
"How many do they need to take?" It was Signas.  
  
"Top of the castle, surrounding mountain paths, anything that looks vaguely like it could launch a rocket…" Taggart shrugged. "You get the idea."  
  
"It'll be nice to see what they've been up to defense wise," Caligula observed. "I wish we'd been able to cut off Cyber Peacock's money laundering op."  
  
"I'll have to make sure to bring that up," Signas realized. He and Zero left for Sub-City 3 the following morning. He'd be tired as hell, he realized, but it couldn't be helped. He wanted to see this.  
  
"Figure a few more minutes before they hit the target zone," Taggart declared. "Anyone want some coffee?"  
  
____________________  
  
It had been weeks since Zero had been this talkative, X realized. They were going over soldier evaluations in Zero's quarters, and while both were trying hard to concentrate, they found themselves constantly switching to other topics. A big item of communication was Cain's retirement.  
  
"Lord, I'll miss him," Zero said, filing away an evaluation of one of X's new recruits. As expected, Unit 17 was flooding with any recruit who was halfway decent because everyone wanted the Great X to have as many troops as he could possibly have. It was kind of funny, they both thought, since X always would up working alone anyway.  
  
"He's not really going anywhere," X pointed out.  
  
"True. But the administration will be different. Signas is a good guy, but how's he gonna react to full control of an army?"  
  
X shrugged. "Whatever happens happens. I'm just worried about the stuff that will be lost in between the transfer. You know, like projects, certain information that would be nice to know…"  
  
"Yeah, that's what always happens," Zero agreed. "I remember when Tiberius took over the medical department when that human who managed it first…Dr. Lindstrom, wasn't it…? Yeah, Dr. Lindstrom went to the great beyond via a car crash, of all things." The blonde Hunter shook his head. "There was such a vacuum of order there that it wasn't even funny. This'll be worse. Cain's got a lot on his plate. Some of it's bound to fall off." He snorted out a half laugh. "He hasn't even had a chance to look into my investigation."  
  
"Oh boy," X said offhandedly, pulling out another soldier profile to look over, "what did you do now?"  
  
"Not me," he replied in a hardy-har-har tone, "the bossmen." "Bossmen" could only refer to the Megacity Army.  
  
"Fine," X said just as offhandedly, speed reading through the dossier without really caring. What was he supposed to do with all these soldiers, anyway? "What did THEY do now?"  
  
"Conspiracy, murder, the usual," Zero was just as distracted as X had been. Plus it had been a long night. He didn't realize what he was saying.  
  
"That so?" X raised an eyebrow to peer over the top of the dossier. "Is that what's been eating at you lately?"  
  
"Well, to a certain…" He froze. "Oops."  
  
X sighed. "You know, it's real annoying when you set the hook into some really juicy information, and then stop reeling it in the moment I get interested."  
  
Zero winced. "Yeah, I know…I guess I have been doing that lately, haven't I…"  
  
"That's an understatement," X said evenly as he replaced the dossier. "You occasionally resemble a newly risen zombie, and this is when you're sober. You've been muttering weird things, too, whenever you see the Mavericks. What's this privileged information that no one else can know?"  
  
Zero did his best not to groan. He'd totally forgotten his reservations as far as telling X about Terrornova. But, if they'd been forgotten once, what did they matter? Besides, Cain was going to impale him on his cane if he didn't give X some information soon. "It's kind of hard to explain."  
  
"I'm listening," X said quickly. He'd been waiting quite a while to see what Zero was so worked up about.  
  
Zero sighed in resignation and nodded. "Okay. You know about Mea, right?"  
  
X nodded, his mind already racing. He'd first learned about Zero's old friend Mea while he'd watched the X-Hunters' fortress sink into the icy waters surrounding the North Pole. X had made some comment that indicated that his rage over Zero's death had given him the drive he'd needed to beat Sigma. The newly revived Zero had responded that he, too, was inspired by the death of a friend, and so X learned of Mea's untimely end during the Hunter Olympiad. X would never forget the story, if nothing else because of the emotion Zero had used when telling it. He'd remembered all too well when the time came for the recent Olympiad, and knew why Zero had chosen to seclude himself from the games.  
  
Zero forced himself to go on. He really hated talking about this. "The man who killed her…his name is Malevex."  
  
It took only a few seconds for X to make the connection. "Malevex…isn't that one of the…"  
  
Zero nodded. "He's one of the new Maverick commanders, one of those we've identified."  
  
X's eyes widened in what he thought was realization. "I see. You're fighting the man who…"  
  
"No," Zero shook his head, surprising his friend. "It's not that simple. I know what he looks like because I saw him that day at the Olympiad. I know his name because Mortar told me what it was."  
  
"Mortar…" Again, the connection took only a few seconds. "The guy from the slums? The day you got hit by that bomb?"  
  
A nod. "Before that bomb went off, I had a good long conversation with Mortar…."  
  
It took ten minutes to fully explain the Terrornova project and its repercussions to X, who reacted with quiet disbelief. When Zero finished, X's head was filled with many of the same questions that had filled Zero's a few days ago.  
  
"And you believe him?" X asked at last.  
  
"I know it seems dumb," Zero admitted. "But I just…it just makes too much sense for it to be a lie, you know? I mean, it's dangerous information nonetheless, but…"  
  
"Tell me about it," X said with distant eyes. "If what the humans did ever got out…well, I'd lose quite a few of these extra soldiers, I'll tell you that."  
  
"Yeah." They were quiet for a while before Zero spoke again. "I'm not so worried about it anymore, and you shouldn't be either. What's past is past, or at least that's what Cain said."  
  
"Then what are you still worried about?"  
  
Zero looked suddenly embarrassed. "It's a hell of a thing to say, but I sympathize with these guys. I've never sympathized with an enemy before, and it's creepy. Like, what if I choke when I have the opportunity to kill one of them?"  
  
"These people are nuclear terrorists," X reminded him. "Like you said, what's past is past. They could change their ways if they wanted to, but they won't. It's our duty to defeat them for it."  
  
"It's easy to say that now," Zero agreed. "But still…" He stopped and shook his head, laughing at himself. "Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I'll get so lost in the combat that I won't realize how I beat them when I do." He hoped that would be true. He didn't want to have to contemplate the fate of his victims this time. More than anything, Zero thought, he feared having to talk to these people face to face. If Mortar could do so much to his mind with that story, who knew what the other three could do with their sides of the same story? If he were put up against them in combat—and he was sure that would happen—it had to be a quick, clean kill, without time to think about the scenario. No, that'll come afterward, followed by a new swarm of angst, he thought with a mirthless smile. Aren't I just the jolliest little bastard in the world?  
  
The rest of their conversation was somewhat subdued, and X left twenty minutes later with his dossiers. The azure Hunter's mind was both relieved and stressed. He'd been rather worried about his friend, but now that Zero had gotten his secrets off his chest, he'd inevitably become more and more like himself. That's how it worked, X reminded himself, or at least that's what had happened every time in the past. And not a moment too soon, he realized. Zero left for Sub-City 3's Alden Base tomorrow morning. He was glad he'd gotten a chance to talk with him before then.  
  
____________________  
  
"Approaching target," Taggart heard from his headset. Delgado had gotten in position first, much to Alec's chagrin, and was reporting his progress through the radios. "Camera active. Approaching perimeter," Delgado went on.  
  
"I'm not picking anything up," Caligula noted, watching the base's radar.  
  
"Mission's a go," Taggart declared. "Over."  
  
____________________  
  
"Roger," Carlos Delgado confirmed. He steered his Raven slightly downward and watched his target screen. He pressed his thumb down on a green button on his control pad and the camera attached to the underside of his jet flashed once. The flash was hard to see by anyone on the ground, preventing a detection that way. He was moving fairly slowly, but he'd still be past the compound in less than half a minute, so he took pictures as fast as he could. Raven 12 sped past Seraph Castle, followed by Raven 13, which had taken several pictures of the same target areas.  
  
"Yee ha," Alec said without enthusiasm into his radio.  
  
"I hope this does some good," Carlos responded as they put distance between themselves and the castle.  
  
"Who the hell cares?" Alec chuckled, watching his instruments for any signs of trouble. It felt great to be flying again, he thought.  
  
"Yeah," Delgado replied, thinking the same thing. Alec could hear the grin in his friend's voice.  
  
____________________  
  
Revolver couldn't remember when he'd been ever so proud. He paced back and forth on a metal catwalk overlooking the main construction site, activating various buttons and control panels. Greenback bounced around nearby, overseeing the final system checks, while Chuck bossed around the engineers below. Chuck was an excellent supervisor, Revolver observed. He was an invaluable member of the team. And Greenback, for all his oddness, was a genius in weapons development. Revolver would never have guessed that this little frog would have the know-how inside his oversized head to not only tap into the power of nuclear warheads, but also to produce the weapons delivery systems for the ultimate delivery method: Gallagher.  
  
The airship was as complete as it was going to get. It very vaguely resembled the Death Rogumer. If there was one thing Storm Eagle remembered well, it was the schematics for his old flying fortress. He'd provided Revolver with enough of those that the engineer had been able to quickly throw together the shell for what would become the Gallagher, his magnum opus.  
  
Gallagher could be called the shark of the sky. It was a black, sleek, bullet-shaped vessel that wasn't necessarily big, but then, Death Rogumer hadn't been very big either, and it had caused quite a bit of trouble. Gallagher would do much worse, Revolver was sure. The airship had quite a wide variety of missile batteries that would launch huge volleys of cluster missiles down towards either one target or a collection of moving targets. That had been Revolver's pet project, and he was very proud of it. The Mavericks only had enough small missiles in stock for two reloads after the initial volley, but Revolver thought it would be enough for this particular mission, since, after all, the real weapons were located underneath the wide, thick wings.  
  
Two giant launchers were implanted in the Gallagher, one inside each wing. They were used, of course, to fire Buzzbombs. Or, more accurately, Revolver reminded himself, the upgraded Buzzbombs. After all, the Buzzbombs themselves were useless. The warhead was what Revolver had been interested in. The Mavericks had salvaged five Buzzbombs, but only two of the warheads had been useable. Greenback, by using his "technical witchcraft", as Chuck called it, had been able to reactivate the warheads, even though the frog cautioned that the weapons were far from foolproof. He had no idea what might or might not cause the warheads to suddenly deactivate, since while they were operational, they were still unstable. Revolver had tried to make up for that by attaching the warheads to missile shafts that contained extreme explosive elements. This way, even if the Buzzbomb—they still called them that—didn't create a nuclear blast as planned, the resulting explosion would still be enough to do major damage to a structure. Revolver was sure that what he had would be enough to level Hunter Headquarters. That was, after all, the real plan.  
  
The chief Maverick engineer flipped a final lever and the roof of the construction zone began to separate. The steel panels that concealed the garage slid back into the walls of the chamber, slowly, and revealed the starlit sky. Revolver loved it. He couldn't do astrology, but he liked to think that the stars foretold good things for him. He hoped so. Virtually everyone working on this project had come from Steel Alley, but Revolver's loyalty was not to Steel Alley. He hated humans—he had never told anyone why, and wanted to keep the real reason a secret—and so he would fight well for the Mavericks, but he wasn't really loyal to them, either. Revolver was loyal to himself alone. By completing this project and the mission that would soon follow, the economic crisis would be just as great as the political and military crises. It would be the perfect opportunity for Steel Alley to emerge as the dominant part of Megacity 5's economy…and the perfect time for Revolver himself to emerge as one of the leaders of the Engineer Corps. From there, he thought with a crafty smile, it would be easy for him to assert his control over the economy, and, as he knew, with real money came real power. Real power, he knew, would give him the chance to hurt the humans in a way far more serious than even the Buzzbombs ever could.  
  
But that was for the future. The here and now was a final test of Gallagher's operational capabilities. The airship had turbothrusters on its underside to get it off the ground and more thrusters on the back to maneuver through the air. The ground thrusters would ignite tonight and lift the ship briefly off the ground, just to prove to Commander Gredam that the thing really worked.  
  
Greenback bounded up the stairs to join his boss. "Greenback reports that all is ready!" the kooky frog reported, spearing a fly with his tongue.  
  
Revolver didn't even flinch at the sight. In fact, he grinned. "It's finally time, Greenback! Let's make 'em proud back home."  
  
"Yes!" the frog nodded vigorously. "Steel Alley will call us heroes!"  
  
It was so easy, Revolver thought with amusement, to pretend that Steel Alley meant something to him. It was fun, being an actor. He couldn't wait for the curtain call.  
  
____________________  
  
Delgado saw it first. They were lower this time, and they'd already split up to circle both sides of the target zone at once. He didn't like being this low, but it was his job, and he was very good at his job. Raven 12's target screen displayed nothing but dark ground, which Delgado photographed vigorously, but he stopped when he saw movement in the distance.  
  
"Alec, I'm picking something up, over."  
  
"Which one of us is closer, over?"  
  
"That'd be me, pal." Carlos grinned. About time things got interesting. "I'll snap a few shots, over." He steered his jet off course and slowed it down. As he got closer, he could positively identify the ground splitting apart…at least, that's what it looked like. "We got something crazy here, Alec," the pilot reported as he snapped a few shots. "Looks like a hidden cache of some sort. I'm gonna take a closer look, over."  
  
Hundreds of meters away, inside Raven 13, Alec wondered what the strange feeling was that was brewing in the pit of his stomach.  
  
____________________  
  
"Repeat, report your situation, over," Taggart said into the radio, somewhat annoyed.  
  
"Something strange is going on, sir," Delgado responded. "I'm just taking a few shots, over."  
  
"That's near UNDINE," Caligula pointed out, motioning to the radar.  
  
"Well, what in the hell…?" Signas wondered aloud.  
  
____________________  
  
Delgado had to fly through some clouds, but it wasn't anything he hadn't done before. He didn't like it, but he could do it. His eyes were locked on the target radar. He took one more shot as the ground opened a little more, and then he was past the area. Still curious, he doubled back, wondering if he'd just witnessed the activation of a Buzzbomb launch site. That, he reasoned, was definitely worth his attention. Delgado turned slowly after putting some distance between him and the target. Then he lined up a shot.  
  
The explosion wasn't huge, but it did nearly scare the piss out of him, and the jolt sent his hand crashing down on a set of random controls that caused Raven 12 to go slightly haywire. He spent the next ten horrifying seconds steadying the aircraft, and when he dared to look back at his target screen he saw that he was already quite a ways away from the hole in the ground. What in the hell did I hit?  
  
"Raven 13, this is 12," Delgado said in a hoarse voice. "I've hit something."  
  
____________________  
  
No shit, Alec Tremont thought inside Raven 13. He'd seen the fire erupt from the cloud Delgado was flying through, and it had briefly horrified him. What had it been? And more importantly, Alec thought, were there more of them?  
  
There were dots on his radar, he noticed for the first time, small ones, and only a few of them. Carlos had probably been paying too much attention to his target screen and not enough attention to his radar, Alec concluded. Damn! "Any damage?" he asked his friend, forgetting to add the customary "over".  
  
"No, no," Delgado replied, "nothing serious, just a bit of a scare…the plane is flying a little jerky, though."  
  
"Take your shots and come home," Commander Taggart said from Hunter HQ. Both pilots registered the voice, knowing it really meant "come home this instant", but neither were ready to do that. Carlos had a new target and Alec had another target to photograph—the roof of Seraph Castle. But then, he promised himself, they would leave. A few more minutes, he reasoned, wouldn't make any real difference.  
  
He started to get a feel for what the feeling in his stomach was, but he decided to ignore it. It was easier that way.  
  
____________________  
  
The Mavericks knew very well that the Hunters liked to send their spy planes over hostile Maverick bases to collect intelligence data, and Storm Eagle had taken it upon himself to put a crimp in that process. The avian had recently sowed several "eyes" in the sky that served both as floating aerial cameras…and aerial mines. Raven 12's impact not only created a large, bright explosion, but it also tripped several alarms inside Seraph Castle. One of the cameras monitored by security personnel went offline, and alarm codes flashed on computer screens throughout the castle, but it didn't take long to handle the problem, since the security officer in charge was Bit. He and his brother, Byte, were in charge of Seraph Castle's security measures, and they operated most of the counter surveillance methods available to the Mavericks. Storm Eagle was the one who'd installed the sky eyes but Bit knew how to operate them, and with a few simple button pushes a command was issued to every sky eye in operation. They all began to move about in the sky, using antigravity propulsion methods, and their paths were far too random for any pilot to predict. If there were still spy planes up there, Bit thought, they wouldn't be hidden for long.  
  
But this of course was merely step one. He found Byte in the officer's lounge and together they rushed to a staircase.  
  
"What are they up to?" Byte asked his brother during the climb.  
  
"Who knows?" Bit responded. "Probably just taking pictures. But Revolver's running that exercise tonight, and we can't let any pictures of that go home." They both knew what that meant.  
  
____________________  
  
The Mavericks patrolling the upper outer walkways of Seraph Castle saw the blast as soon as it happened and for a while just stared in dumb silence. What were they supposed to do now?  
  
The one to first take action was a gray Reploid with a rather ruthless past. He knew something about handling the large antiaircraft guns that The Team had had mounted on the roof in two spots, and he went right to them.  
  
Bit and Byte emerged on the upper walkways a few minutes later, and then everyone knew how serious it was.  
  
"Be ready," Bit said to the gray Reploid. "Don't shoot until we give the order."  
  
"Is this even a good idea?" Byte asked, uncharacteristically nervous. "What if they retaliate?"  
  
"We don't have much time left anyway," Bit pointed out. "Besides, we can't let them get any images of Revolver's project!"  
  
Byte thought for a few minutes and nodded approval. "But those guns won't be good enough." He ignored the gray Reploid's insulted look and motioned behind him. "We need to operate the battery."  
  
Bit knew what that meant, and he nodded his own approval. "I'll get the key."  
  
____________________  
  
Alec piloted Raven 13 at a slight downward angle, coming up on the roof of the castle. He didn't want to go too far down, and he knew that this was the dangerous part. If the Mavericks thought he was coming down to make an attack, things would get hairy. He took his pictures and started to pull up when he finally noticed the figures on the upper catwalks.  
  
"Carlos! Commander! We've got movement on the roof!"  
  
____________________  
  
The gray Maverick had a perfect shot. The plane was headed right towards him, for crying out loud! But he'd been told to hold his fire, and he turned to shout at Bit but the smallish gold Reploid saw it first.  
  
"Oh, shit," Bit breathed. "SHOOT!"  
  
The gray Maverick did so, but the split second of hesitation wound up saving Alec Tremont's life. The Maverick squeezed the trigger just as Raven 13 began its upward climb. The guns rocked back and forth like a jackhammer, and the noise deafened everyone in the area. The huge bullets flew through the sky, and with their green tracers it was like a burst of jade laser fire had just pierced the night sky, coming up directly underneath Raven 13.  
  
____________________  
  
Alec didn't take any damage, but the psychological effect was just as bad as the physical one would have been. His jet even reported the heat increase from the superheated rounds that had passed not five feet below him.  
  
"I'm being shot at, sir!" he rasped into the radio.  
  
"Hold your fire!" Taggart said forcefully. "Repeat, do not attack!"  
  
That was fine with Alec. The pilot gained altitude until he was reasonably safe, and then turned to come around for another pass. This time, it wasn't for pictures, though. He had to get home, and home was in the other direction. It was just as well that he didn't pay attention as his brief horror dissolved into anger. Those bastards tried to shoot me down! And I can't shoot back? What the hell is up with this crazy world?  
  
The wrenching feeling in his stomach was greater than his anger, now. They shouldn't be here, he confessed to himself. They shouldn't have pressed their luck. They should have retreated after Carlos had hit that floating mine. But they hadn't.  
  
"What now?" Alec Tremont asked himself.  
  
"Christ…" Commander Taggart leaned back in his chair and wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. "RTB, repeat, return to base, both of you, over!" He looked back toward Signas, who was pale with uncertainty. "We can't shoot back?"  
  
"No," Caligula responded, "not yet. For one thing, they probably already think we're attacking them, and for another two Ravens won't stand a chance against all of Seraph Castle's defenses. We need those photos," he pointed out. "We need both Ravens back here as soon as possible, and in one piece."  
  
____________________  
  
"Come on, man," Alec barked to Carlos, "we're heading home now!"  
  
"Roger," Delgado replied, but that wasn't quite true, was it? Like Alec, he was on the wrong side of the castle, and had to make a return pass to start heading home. He altered his course somewhat, thinking in the back of his mind that this was a bad idea, but doing it anyway. Raven 12 veered slightly to the right as it sped past Seraph Castle. Green bullet tracers rocketed up towards his jet, and the pilot quickly reduced altitude sharply, falling like a brick and then curving to the left. Delgado continued to the right, and snaked around until the tracers fell towards him. Now, he pulled up, and gained altitude quickly, surprising the Maverick gunman and successfully evading the attack.  
  
"Suck it!" he whooped, and got back on his course. He was past the castle now, but he was still somewhat right of the exit route. Over in Raven 13, Alec briefly wondered what his partner was doing. It didn't take him long to find out.  
  
"Carlos!" Delgado heard in his radio, "What the hell are you doing, man? Get out of there!"  
  
"You betcha," Delgado replied distractedly, steering his Raven in his intended direction. "I'll follow you out."  
  
"Now, dammit!"  
  
"No worries, Alec. Cover me. Over." Delgado broke communication and concentrated on his new flight plan, reducing his speed.  
  
____________________  
  
"What the hell is this about?" Signas demanded sharply.  
  
"I don't know, sir," Taggart admitted. "Delgado's headed back towards…"  
  
"UNDINE," Caligula finished. "God damn it! Get him out of there, Jimmy! The Mavericks are gonna be busting out the big guns very shortly!"  
  
____________________  
  
Bit reemerged from the inner chambers in the upper level of Seraph Castle with a simple card key. He dashed over to the large missile battery where Byte waited patiently and swiped the card key through a slit. Immediately, the giant box with eight internal cylinders came to life, and several Mavericks gathered around their commanders with small Surface-to- Air-Missiles.  
  
"How many?" Bit asked.  
  
Byte frowned. "We can't afford to use more than four now. We'll need these later." His brother nodded and the Mavericks began to shove the small rockets into four of the eight cylinders. They finished and closed the bottom door, locking the missiles in place. Byte pressed a few buttons and the SAM battery's lights went green. They were ready.  
  
The Mavericks didn't have many luxuries as far as item wealth, but one thing they did have in large supply was SAMs. These small missiles were fired in clusters from missile batteries, usually on board a ship or air carrier. They were also good for defending a fort, and they had been an annoyance for the Hunters during many invasion attempts on past Maverick fortresses. At the end of the fourth uprising, many SAMs were left over from Storm Owl's defunct air force. A few arms purchases had provided the Mavericks with all the SAMs they could want to defend a base like Seraph Castle. The problem was, they only had this one launcher. The Team was working on installing another one on the back of the base, but it was doubtful that they'd work the kinks out in time. They'd been sold a lemon, apparently. But it didn't matter for the moment, because they at least had this launcher, and for tonight, this launcher would work just fine.  
  
Bit and Byte stared warily at each other. They did not have clearance for this. Sure, they could defend their base, but SAMs were valuable, especially with the inevitable Hunter invasion on its way. Gredam might be very pissed. Screw Gredam, Byte would say. Byte didn't like his new commander very much. According to Byte, Gredam had come too far, too fast. Bit didn't care quite so much. Gredam was no Sigma, that was for sure. But, Bit had decided on further reflection, was that such a bad thing?  
  
They heard the roar of Raven 12 passing them by and the curses of the gray Maverick who couldn't quite shoot the pilot down, and they made their decision. Sure they might be reprimanded, but Revolver was holding that test, and that was currently the matter of highest security, and security was their job.  
  
"I've got a lock," one of the Mavericks said.  
  
Byte moved his large body to the side so that the Maverick could take full control. He'd used these things before, Byte knew. Still, he wanted to keep an eye on this grunt. SAMs were not to be wasted, after all.  
  
The SAM launcher hummed and whirred, indicating that it did indeed have a target lock on the Raven moving speedily towards the site that the Hunters called UNDINE. Both security officers inhaled sharply at the same time, and then Byte said "Fire."  
  
____________________  
  
Raven 13's pilot was unsure of himself. Carlos wasn't in trouble yet, but Alec knew that it was just a matter of time. The Mavericks had been alerted, and it wouldn't be long before they attacked with something other than those machine guns.  
  
Or would it? Alec frowned as he quickly went over the situation. Both he and Carlos were on their way out. In a minute they'd be clear…well, he'd be clear, Alec realized, but Carlos would take a little longer if he was going back to that site. Would the Mavericks have defenses there? Would Carlos have the good sense to look at his radar this time?  
  
God exposed Alec's hypocrisy a moment later when two of Storm Eagle's sky eyes flew past his Raven, jerking the pilot out of his thoughts and back to the present. He immediately picked up speed and stared down at his own radar, realizing that the sky eyes had been moving in and he hadn't even noticed. The little things didn't have a lock-on capability, but they were moving about unpredictably, and at this moment they were both coming towards Raven 13, one above and one to the left, and to the right was Seraph Castle. Alec felt like he was in between a rock and a hard place.  
  
And that was only the beginning. Below him, on the compound's roof, the gray Maverick saw Raven 13 hovering there trying to evade the funny little sky eyes. He swiveled the big machine gun to the left and let fly with tracer fire. He didn't bother with aiming, as the bright green ray of gunfire told him exactly where his bullets were going.  
  
Alec bellowed the first obscenity that came to his head. It was so involuntary an action that he didn't even know or remember what he had said. He immediately increased his velocity, only to be cut off by one of the sky eyes. Then he felt his aircraft jerk as bullets impacted its right side.  
  
"Shit!" the Hunter roared and did the only thing he could: he shot forward like a bullet. The Raven plowed clear through the sky eye, and the explosion blinded Alec and sent tremors through the Raven. And so, Alec was forced to play one of the more dangerous games of his life. While zooming forward through the dark night sky, he took his eyes away from the sky and began recalibrating his instruments. His jet was in trouble, he realized. He'd make it home all right, but he couldn't stick around to play any longer.  
  
"Alec!" Commander Taggart's voice filled his ears. Apparently he'd been yelling at the pilot for quite a while. It was surprising to Alec how easily the mind blocked out unnecessary noises during a crisis. "Alec, what is your status?"  
  
"I'm hit, sir," Tremont replied. "Nothing serious, but I need some maintenance. I'm on my way out, anyway."  
  
"Is the camera damaged?"  
  
"No, sir," Alec replied after checking. "I'm not getting a damage reading from the underside of the Raven. The bullets hit my side…though that explosion just now might have frayed the edges of your photos a little bit."  
  
"Roger, over," Taggart replied quickly.  
  
"You okay, pal?" It was Delgado.  
  
"Yeah. I'm out of here. You come on too."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
"Right now."  
  
"Yeah, roger that…"  
  
Alec then noticed something else. It must have happened while he was evading the Maverick gunner, because he sure as hell would have noticed this. Four yellow streaks of fire were extending from Seraph Castle like long golden fingers, and they were about to close their grip on a distant target. In Alec's harried mind, it took a few seconds to realize what that target had to be.  
  
"Oh, Jesus," he sputtered five minutes later as he fumbled with the controls of his radio.  
  
____________________  
  
Carlos Delgado's camera began to use up its final reel of film as it snapped shot after shot of UNDINE and the surrounding area. Revolver's garage was actually located south of the UNDINE site. You could link to the garage from Doppler's old hideout, and from the garage to the innards of Seraph Castle. Delgado had no idea that the area had been termed "UNDINE", and certainly had no idea what was buried there, but he did know that there was suddenly a lighted hole in the ground, and he wanted to know what that was. The problem now was that Carlos was flying lower than he had been last time, and was forced to take the mountains into account.  
  
UNDINE was hidden in and along a cluster of large mountains, and Delgado had to add a little to his altimeter to clear them. His eyes fluttered from his target screen to the scene in front of him. He didn't even think to look at his radar. Nervousness began to bloom when he realized that he was having a decidedly difficult time gaining enough altitude on one particular mountain, and so he cut his speed a little to buy the extra few seconds he'd need to avoid crashing into the mountainside.  
  
"Carlos!" Alec's voice broke both his concentration and his calm. "Carlos, you've got…"  
  
"Not now!" the man snapped in nervous irritation. "I gotta concentrate on this one!"  
  
Seconds later, Delgado rose above the mountaintop and looked down. He was lower now, and the light from the strange pit made it easier for him to observe the area. And so, he got his first real look at the top-secret intelligence facility "UNDINE". It was the last thing he would ever see.  
  
____________________  
  
"Carlos!" Alec shouted through the radios, but he was too late, and knowing that only made it worse. The four SAMs came down on Raven 12 like the fingers of God. Only three of them wound up hitting, but that was enough. The explosions all seemed to take place at once, including the one from the inside of Raven 12 that reduced the entire aircraft into a charred skeletal shell that promptly split into chunks of flaming metal which fell to the ground like little meteors. Raven 12, its pilot, and the all- important pictures it had taken were lost.  
  
"Carlos!" Alec repeated his friend's name. "Carlos, God dammit! You bastards," he growled as he veered Raven 13 sharply to the right, intending to whirl on the evil castle and give the Mavericks hell. Immediately his aircraft, damaged on the right flank, began to scream its protest. It soon occurred to Alec that the Raven wasn't the only thing screaming.  
  
"Do not engage!" Commander Taggart fairly shrieked into the radio. "Repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE!"  
  
"DAMMIT!" Alec roared, realizing that his commander was right. To engage a fully alerted Maverick fortress with a wounded aircraft was the next thing to suicide. He swore again and tilted the aircraft back to its original path. It was time to go. He'd have to avenge Carlos another day. "Soon," he promised the castle before leaving it behind.  
  
Minutes later, Raven 13 left the Catskills and returned to Hunter HQ, alone.  
  
____________________  
  
"Affirmative," James Taggart said wearily. He switched off his radio and removed the headset, running his hand through his messy hair.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jimmy," Signas said quietly as the commander sat down.  
  
Taggart just nodded and concentrated on burying his rage. He'd broken a cold sweat, though he wasn't entirely sure why. It might have been due to the death of one of his soldiers, but it didn't feel quite like that, he admitted. It might have been nervousness towards the rapidly souring mission, but while he had felt a little nauseous, that still didn't seem to be the problem. No, Taggart was sweating because he was fighting a vicious internal battle against the blazing hatred within him. He wanted to be up there, fighting the bastards, not sitting down here directing the events like it was some sort of movie.  
  
But he was still a professional, and he still had a job to do, even if he hated it. "Tremont's coming home. He has his pictures with him."  
  
Signas nodded, and Caligula bowed his head slightly. The chief spook was slightly annoyed with himself. A man had just died, a man loyal to the same cause that Caligula was loyal to. And yet, where there should have been grief there was just disappointment; Caligula cared more about the pictures Delgado had taken than about the pilot himself. The UNDINE site was one of his current "hot spots", and he wanted all the data on it that he could get. It was a shame about Delgado, but Caligula had long since come to terms with the fact that he was more than a little dispassionate towards peoples' lives. He certainly didn't like it, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it. He had to say something, though, so he tried something fairly neutral. "You think they'll retaliate?"  
  
"You're the spook," Taggart pointed out distantly.  
  
Oops. "Yeah…well…I don't know about this one."  
  
Signas sighed before it could go any further. The big Reploid got to his feet and gazed at the headsets Taggart had used to communicate with his pilots. It didn't matter what the Mavericks did, he told himself. He'd meet with the Megacity Council in a matter of hours, and so would begin the fall of the Mavericks.  
  
"Tomorrow morning," he said to his fellow commanders, "couldn't come sooner."  
  
____________________  
  
"Well what in the hell," Revolver said quizzically, "do you suppose that was?"  
  
"Greenback does not know," the frog replied just as distantly. "Looked like fireworks, it did."  
  
"Those were no fireworks." A big Maverick built to resemble a woodchuck stepped up to join his fellow engineers. He even had the big teeth, though they were razor sharp, and anyone who dared made fun of Chuck regretted it quickly. "Seems we had some guests."  
  
Revolver blinked, seeing the situation for what it was. "Spies?"  
  
"Don't worry," Chuck replied in his ever-neutral bass voice. "They don't think that the other one got any pictures. We shot down the one that did."  
  
"'We'?" Revolver frowned. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Bit sent me the transmission himself." Chuck shrugged. "They made use of their SAMs. We got a variant of that model aboard Gallagher." The woodchuck grinned. "It's nice to see such a successful sample firing drill."  
  
Revolver laughed hard at that one. "A drill! Well, I suppose this night wasn't a failure after all. Gallagher's propulsion systems work, we just didn't get her into the sky. We shouldn't have any problems when the real thing starts." The chief mechanic waved Greenback towards the control pad that he'd used earlier. The frog hopped speedily towards it and flipped a few switches. The roof of the garage creaked and groaned as it slowly began to close up, reaffirming the excellent camouflage that had kept it hidden in the first place.  
  
"Will this affect our plans?" Chuck asked in an even lower tone.  
  
Revolver shook his head. "The Buzzbombs are active, are they not? That's all that matters. They're ready to be fired, almost. That's what Greenback was for." He shut up as the frog returned from his task.  
  
"Greenback still thinks it looked like fireworks," he croaked. "Greenback wonders, though, if we shouldn't go pick up the bits and pieces?"  
  
Revolver hadn't thought of that just yet. "I'll talk to Bit. In the meantime, let's close up shop here." He grinned. "Congratulations on our first successful test run, gentlemen. Just goes to show that even if we don't get off the ground, we can still kick a lot of ass."  
  
____________________  
  
Deactivating the missile battery was much easier than operating it. Byte flipped a lever and Bit pocketed the keycard. The Mavericks continued to patrol the roof vigorously; they would be on high alert tonight. Popular belief was that a spying run had just been foiled, but Bit and Byte weren't so sure. What if this had been a prelude to an attack? What if the Hunters were seeking out Revolver's garage to destroy it? It would explain the dead pilot's actions. At any rate, there didn't seem to be any immediate threat remaining, and so the two Mavericks congratulated the man who'd manned the SAM battery and went over to talk to the gray Reploid who'd manned the antiaircraft gun.  
  
They were very surprised to see Mortar standing in the middle of the catwalk leading to the gray Maverick's position.  
  
Byte stiffened, but Bit didn't move. Mortar didn't seem to notice them. Neither Maverick had heard the old Reploid coming, because quite frankly Mortar didn't seem all that old anymore. The newest, most subtle member of The Team had gone years without any fine-tuning, repairs, or oiling. When Malevex had brought him to Seraph Castle, however, Mortar had decided it was safe enough to undergo a bit of a renovation. It couldn't really be called that, though, Bit decided. Mortar had refused to allow newer, better parts to replace the ones he'd been given at birth. He claimed that he did just fine with what he had, thank you very much, and would gladly challenge and defeat any of the new-fangled machines that walked the streets nowadays. Though Bit didn't know it, Gredam, Malevex, and Teytha held the same attitudes about upgrades. It was mostly because of their pride in past achievements, Bit knew, but given their pasts, why would they want to be reminded of their past achievements?  
  
Well, it didn't matter that much to the smaller member of Dr. Doppler's former security partnership. Mortar no longer creaked when he moved, something he did much faster now, and while he always appeared to be methodical and deep in thought, he had the reflexes and the cunning of a fox, something he'd proven time and time again in Seraph Castle's training room. Now, the Maverick chieftain stared out towards Revolver's hidden garage, doubtlessly trying to locate the small, burning fragments of Raven 12. His face was neutral and impassive, as usual, and Bit and Byte suddenly felt their previous nervousness returning. They hadn't had clearance to launch those SAMs. But there hadn't been time for clearance, they could argue. They had been forced to act fast. Still, Gredam and Byte had no particular love for each other, and Bit didn't know Gredam well enough to be able to guess if his new commander would use any opportunity available to burn Byte and get him out of his hair. That's what Sigma would have done, Bit realized, but just how like Sigma was Gredam?  
  
Regardless of his feelings towards Gredam, however, Byte didn't mind Mortar all that much. The old guy was always watching the officers with an interested expression, as though he were learning from what his underlings were saying. Byte figured that Mortar probably knew everything that he did, and had probably executed many of Byte's strategies himself in the past, but at least Mortar made the effort to avoid patronizing his officers, and that was something Byte could respect. Still, this didn't stop him from being nervous. Mortar didn't look pissed, but then, he never did. Oh well, Byte thought, nothing to do now.  
  
Mortar finally frowned, switching his gaze towards the gray Maverick and the gun he manned. His eyes picked out one of Storm Eagle's sky eyes moving about in the gray clouds, and he mentally reminded himself that he'd have to stop their random movement. Then he turned to Bit and Byte, looking briefly past them to the SAM battery.  
  
Both officers froze somewhat. One other thing they didn't know much about was Mortar's disposition towards violence. Sure, the man was an old killer, but they didn't know whether or not he hated that fact. After all, he'd sort of come to Seraph Castle as a last resort, lest he be taken into custody by Zero. However, as it turned out their worries didn't amount to much, as Mortar was going through one of his colder moments.  
  
"Nice shot," Mortar said simply to Bit and Byte. Then he turned on his heel and reentered the compound, not even glancing back.  
  
Both security officers let out a long breath. "I told you," Byte chuckled. "I told you that old guy was gonna be cool."  
  
"Let's not push it," Bit tried to be assertive, but he couldn't stop his own relief from tainting his words. "He might not be in such an anti- Hunter mood the next time."  
  
"Right," Byte said with a grin. "But I doubt it. 'Next time' will be when all kinds of bullets are flying everywhere, and you know it." His laughter developed into a rumble. "I doubt that any of us will be in a pro- Hunter mood."  
  
Bit allowed him that. He stared out towards the mountains for a few seconds before turning to commend the gray gunner, and followed Mortar inside the compound. It had been a hectic night, he decided, and he had a lot of follow up security measures to take. After that he would go to bed, he promised himself. He'd have to be very alert soon, he knew. He'd have to get all the rest he could. 


	26. Green Lights

1 Chapter Twenty-Five: Green Lights  
  
Smaller cities not part of nearby Megacities were referred to as "Sub- Cities", and each Megacity in the Megacity System generally had 5 or more Sub-Cities surrounding it. Megacity 5's Sub-City 3 was a largely residential area, where wealthier citizens purchased homes away from the big city atmosphere. Sub-City 3 also housed a decent meeting hall used often by the local division of the Megacity Council. This cold morning would be one of those days when the council would gather in City Hall to discuss matters of glaring importance.  
  
Also in Sub-City 3 was a "reserve" military base used by the Megacity Army. It was known as the Alden Base, after a veteran of a recent human war. Alden Base sat relatively close to the City Hall, and so the Council met often in this area due to the close proximity of a military presence. Alden Base wasn't all that big, and consisted mostly of warehouses full of some tanks, heavy weapons, some Raven jets, ride armors, and plenty of automated defenses. The command center was the largest and best defended building on the base, which only made sense.  
  
Generals in the upper echelon of the Army controlled Alden Base, but the "Active Commander", as he called himself, was Full Colonel Tony Jones. Jones resided in the base and held operational command, at least until some General took over for him. Jones didn't much like the concept of being puppet leader of a "just in case" army base, but on further reflection he wasn't really a puppet—he got everything done on his own, the big boys just sat around and watched. What really sucked was that there wasn't much way to draw attention to a just-in-case base, meaning he probably wouldn't be noticed and tapped for general's stars. That was okay, Jones had decided on further reflection. The work he did as a Colonel was more fun than the Council meetings Generals had to sit in on.  
  
Colonel Jones had started with the Army a few months before Sigma had gone crackers, and had seen all four wars fly by. He'd fought in all of them, climbing to a Colonel's rank due to his service, but he'd been taken out of serious action due to a leg injury sustained when Storm Owl's air force had decided not to allow Jones' just-in-case base to have a chance to do anything (just in case) and dropped a rather large bomb on Alden Base…several of them, actually, and Jones hadn't gotten out of things without a scratch.  
  
Before that, though, during the third uprising, shortly after he'd taken command of Alden Base, Jones had sent reinforcements to Hunter HQ when Doppler's air force was attacking it, and had gone personally to make sure things went as planned. There, Jones had met Zero, and he'd helped the crimson Hunter take care of the remaining Maverick elements while X dealt with the main unit in Doppler's invasion force. The two had been fast friends since then, even though they hadn't had a chance to get together lately. Zero hadn't come out of the fourth war in a very good mood, and Jones had been busy putting his leg back together. They still were on good terms, however, and that was why the morning's meeting went off without a hitch.  
  
"About time they let me play with the toys we got here," Jones harrumphed as he and Zero walked into Garage F. Jones limped slightly. He carried no cane—medically he didn't really have to and personally he was too proud to accept the help of a brainless sliver of wood. He got around just fine, thank you very much, and if anyone found his limp funny Jones would personally feed the son of a bitch his balls for lunch…if the offender were a woman, Jones would find a way to improvise. "I imagine you want the works?"  
  
"Yep," Zero affirmed with a nod. "Douglas has a decent supply of everything, but for the kind of assault we're planning we'll need more heavy artillery, such as the mini-tanks, hovercraft, maybe an extra Raven or two, and definitely some ride armors."  
  
"You came to the right place, then." Jones nodded towards the interior of Garage F, which housed all the dormant ride armor mechas that Alden Base possessed. Zero could see plenty of the Chimera models that had been popular since the first uprising. Oh yes, he knew those beasts very well—one had killed Gradient and Zero himself had died stopping another. They were the most durable ride armor models, followed immediately by the "Kangaroo". The Kangaroo resembled the Chimera in most every way except that instead of fists, the Kangaroo had giant gauntlets with rows of spikes curled circularly around a large center spike. The Kangaroo could perform a deadly attack by dashing forward and launching one of the gauntlets from its arm like a mace ball. When the gauntlet hit something, it would spin like a drill, ripping the target to shreds. Zero saw eight "Hawk" models lined up next to ten "Eagles". The Hawks were the older models of the Eagles, created during the Doppler uprising. Both models had flight capability, but the Hawk's arm units fired swarms of small homing torpedoes, while the Eagle used large bursts of plasma as its projectile weapon. The Eagle was also more heavily armored. They passed by a few "Raiden" models, which had been widely used by the Repliforce. The Raiden was a variant of the Chimera. It was smaller and slightly less powerful, but far more maneuverable. Zero had used one in his battle against Magma Dragoon, during the fourth uprising. Finally, there were but two "Frog" units. The Frog was a very flimsy mecha as far as armor went, but it was currently the only ride armor that could survive underwater. It was very clumsy on land, but when submerged it was highly maneuverable, and could fire swarms of cluster bombs. All the ride armors looked alike as far as basic structure—all were bipedal machines not much taller than Zero. Each one had a different arm function, but it didn't take much in the way of expertise to pilot any of them once you had experience with one of them.  
  
"We won't need any Frogs," Zero stated. "Not unless the Catskills are hit by a deluge."  
  
"You never know," Jones chuckled. "Oh well, these two shouldn't even be here, in my opinion. Send 'em to a marine base, that's what I say. But who listens to old Jonsey, eh?"  
  
"You haven't changed, Tony," Zero said with a chuckle.  
  
"And what's that supposed to mean? You never change, either. You're still a big blonde pretty-boy in red pajamas."  
  
"Touché!" Zero laughed. "Always good to see you, too, you vulgar bastard."  
  
"Me, vulgar? You should see yourself when you get hammered! You'd give a nun a heart attack something fierce!"  
  
"Appendicitis," Zero corrected.  
  
"A stroke!" Jones insisted otherwise. "We oughta have a contest sometime, Jedi. See how many old ladies we can each horrify with our soldier talk."  
  
"Tony, I'll bet the old ladies would beat US."  
  
"Oh. You've been speaking to my ex again, haven't you?"  
  
"Jesus!" Zero threw up his hands. "You win!"  
  
"As always, Jedi," Jones chuckled. He'd called Zero "Jedi" ever since the first time he'd seen the crimson Hunter swinging his lightsaber around. The Star Wars films were classics, after all, and any self respecting movie buff knew about them. "So what's the deal? There's a big stink floating around about some superweapons that fell into Maverick hands."  
  
Well that had leaked fast. Zero knew that he wasn't supposed to tell people about the Buzzbombs—uncontrolled panic, and all that—but Jones was a war buddy, and Zero had never cared much for red tape anyway. "Keep it on the down-low, but the Mavericks got their grubby mitts on some nukes."  
  
Jones blinked. "Well damn it, Jedi, you've successfully caught me off guard. Looks like you win after all." He looked around the garage thoughtfully. "I imagine you're massing your forces for one solid blow?"  
  
"Correct," Zero nodded. "We started mobilizing yesterday. We'd like to have our plan in motion in two days, but I know better; it'll be more like three or four."  
  
"The Mavericks aren't gonna miss such an obvious buildup," Jones pointed out.  
  
"I know. Their weapons aren't all that potent…well they are, but I mean, we don't know what the chances are of the nukes being activated. We imagine that they're pretty low, but still…" He looked Jones in the eye. "You'll need to have some forces at this base, just in case the Mavericks get lucky."  
  
Colonel Jones nodded. "Hakuna Matata. We'll handle things on the home front, while you're away."  
  
"That's one relief. We could use more of those."  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
He must have looked worse than he thought he did, Zero realized. "One of our spy planes was shot down last night over Maverick territory. The pilot's dead, he has to be. His partner said that his Raven was all but vaporized."  
  
"I'm sorry," Jones said quietly. "Taggart must be pissed."  
  
"It was an insult to his unit," Zero agreed. "But they'll get the bastards back. Right now, we're just hoping that the Mavericks don't—what in the HELL is that?!"  
  
"Wha…? Oh!" Jones grinned. Zero was looking towards the back of the garage, where a half finished monster of a ride armor was suspended from the ceiling by steel cables. It was hooked up to a number of different machines and computers that would monitor its internal functions when they were all turned on, but no one was working on it at the moment. Jones and Zero approached the ride armor, which was about twice Zero's height and equipped with seemingly more weapons than an army. A large empty space was next to the machine-in-progress, and it looked like it had been recently used for something.  
  
"Can we say 'overkill'?" Zero said, mainly to himself.  
  
"The Council gave us the grant money to pursue a new type of ride armor…one that'll mop the floors with the ones the Mavvies uses." Jones grinned. "The plan was to build two. We finished one and began work on the other."  
  
"Seems like you guys went all out."  
  
Jones chuckled. "Riddle me this! What is the beast of beasts, the monster that could put even Vile's fancy "Goliath" out of its misery? It's the X74-Marauder, that's what! Marauder was slated exclusively for the Army, but if it works like it should then we'll be sending you Hunters a few of them. The Marauder's got speed, firepower, and durability. It lacks the endurance of a Chimera, but it more than makes up for it with power. We're talking sabers, lasers, missiles, machine guns, the works! Hard to reload, though, and terribly expensive to fuel. You use up ammunition like it's air, and it costs more than we'd like to keep the weapons at the ready, but still, who cares about dollars in the middle of a deathmatch? Not me! It's got hover capabilities, like Hawk and Eagle, only not as advanced."  
  
"Lordy," Zero breathed. "What can't it do?"  
  
"It can't go underwater. Its turning speed is kind of pathetic, and thus it's rather dependent on its radars." Jones shrugged. "It's beatable, if that's what you're asking."  
  
Zero nodded slowly, and then his face scrunched up in confusion. "You said that there were two of them…?"  
  
Jones' smile disappeared. "Riddle me that! Why is there a giant empty space next to Marauder No. 2 over here, where Marauder No. 1 should be? I'll give you a hint: WE didn't move it."  
  
"No way," Zero felt sick. "Don't you dare say that someone stole it."  
  
Jones nodded soberly. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"  
  
"HOW?" Zero all but exploded. "A thing that big! Don't you have cameras, or something?"  
  
"It's not something I'm proud of," Jones said, somewhat embarrassed. "Alden Base sits right on an atmospherical line that a number of satellites pass directly over. Some of these passovers have the effect of a chaff grenade on our security systems." Jones frowned and shook his head. "It doesn't last very long at all. But one night, it lasted a bit longer than usual. We checked, and there was an irregularity in the satellite's path, the satellite that was causing the interference. What it was, however, was a real chaff grenade. Someone busted into Garage F and made off with a Marauder. We still don't know how the hell nobody saw that monster, which leads us to believe that they had a cloaking device of some sort."  
  
"Great," Zero said flatly. "Now the Mavericks have nukes AND the ultimate ride armor."  
  
"It's beatable," Jones insisted, though somewhat feebly. "It's more beatable than you'd think, actually."  
  
"Let's hope so." Zero sighed and turned back to his friend. "Hopefully it won't make much of a difference. A Marauder may be tough, but no one ride armor can withstand an entire army. Signas is at the Hall now, getting the green light for our little mission."  
  
"I imagine that you can't wait to join him."  
  
"Oh, I can't wait! And in the mean time, I'd like to be impaled on a rusty railroad spike while sipping battery acid from a warthog's bloody skull cavity."  
  
"Well why didn't you say so!" Jones grinned, banishing the dour atmosphere. "C'mon back to my digs and have a drink. May be our last one before things get interesting, you know. The blood is dried in most of my warthog skulls, but I don't imagine that you'll be all that disappointed?"  
  
Zero had to laugh. Only Jonesy. "Fine."  
  
They left Garage F and went to the main complex, where Jones' quarters were located. Zero found himself regretting his earlier choice of words; Jones served him a Rusty Nail, which tasted rather like battery acid, he thought. At least the warthog thing remained a mere joke. The irony wore off and they both cracked open a beer. Zero preferred the coolers designed for Reploids, but Jones' stash was drinkable. He stalled as long as he could. Zero hated, absolutely hated, Council meetings. He'd been forced to sit through a few of them, and while it was bad enough that the people spent half the time repeating themselves, Zero couldn't stand the way they talked to Hunters. Whenever Zero had been present, no one had spoken to him unless absolutely necessary, and even then they'd talked down to him. Pardon me for saving your worthless lives, Zero had managed not to say, I won't try so hard next time. But that, he thought, would be giving in to Sigma, in a sense, and Zero could never live with a decision like that.  
  
"Glad you got to see me, Jedi," Jones said twenty minutes later.  
  
"Always a pleasure," Zero replied. They parted company shortly afterwards, with Jones headed to his office and Zero headed for the exit. But history always repeated itself in this damned place—Zero got lost. All the halls looked alike, he often grumped. He stumbled around for ten minutes before someone took note of him. It was a medium sized Reploid in sparse black armor who wore no helmet in order to let his wild black hair stick out.  
  
"Need directions, sir?" the Reploid said almost casually.  
  
"Damn it, Cassius, why's it always you?" Zero knew the kid by name. It was the same kid who always helped him find the way out.  
  
Cassius just grinned. "The Colonel asks me to babysit you. If you don't mind me saying so," he added.  
  
Zero just grinned and shook his head. "Well, as usual, tell me how to get out of this maze!"  
  
"Yes sir, of course sir, follow me sir."  
  
"And knock it off!"  
  
"Affirmative," Cassius said with a chuckle. Zero had no particular method of picking the Reploids he would be especially cordial to; Cassius just had the luck of the draw. He was an agreeable soldier who was good mostly with computers and base security. His straightforward attitude countered his name, which put his comrades at ease. Everyone was confident that Cassius would not live up to his namesake, the jealous Roman "patriot" who'd assassinated Caesar as much to advance himself as to improve life in Rome. It was oh so perfect an illusion, Cassius often reflected.  
  
Cassius escorted Zero out of the base and to his waiting hovercycle. He waited for the Hunter to leave and chatted with the other base personnel on his way back to the main complex. He took a detour behind Garage C, however, and activated a communicator in his wrist. He spoke a few words and switched off the device, walking casually back into his theater of operations. He wasn't quite like his namesake, Cassius decided. He wasn't jealous. He was a patriot; he'd admit that—Reploids needed more patriots, he thought. He was betraying his employer, but for the greater good, not to advance himself. Hell, he knew, he'd have to hide out once this was over.  
  
But for now, Cassius had his cover and his role to play, and while today he'd played a big role, his crowning achievement was yet to come.  
  
____________________  
  
The Maverick switched off his radio and hissed a command to his partner. They were both feline Reploids, and so were more than suited to leaping across the tops of buildings. The first Maverick, a panther, hissed again into a different radio and crept on silent feet to the edge of the roof he was perched on. He leapt across it covertly, even though he was doing it in broad daylight. His comrade, a female white tiger, followed him across, and they joined a third member of their team, one of their snipers. They were all snipers, but this man was one of the better ones on their team, and he'd be covering their exit. They nodded to acknowledge each other, and then they waited.  
  
The air around the three began to distort, and a tiny breeze appeared as molecules rearranged themselves violently. A second later, Boomer Kuwangner faded into existence at that very spot, having warped over from another rooftop. Boomer was a lanky beetle Reploid who'd been one of Sigma's original eight generals. To his knowledge, he and Storm Eagle were the only two of those original vassals who were still active. Boomer was very tall, with long thin arms and legs, and he walked with a slight hunch. His face was rather creepy. His eyes were fairly normal, but his mouth was hidden behind a fanged mask, and his chief weapon sat atop his head. He was a stag beetle, and therefore his weapon, the Boomerang Cutter, resembled a stag beetle's horns. He could remove the apparatus and throw it like a boomerang…an extremely sharp, terribly deadly boomerang. The Maverick was exceptionally agile and speedy, though he rarely ran anywhere: he had a short-range warp device installed internally to cover distance. He was in charge of most of the Maverick's covert field operations, and more of them were going on than people knew about. Boomer's troops all found him to be somewhat eerie, but none were about to tell him that.  
  
Boomer flicked one of his optics in the panther's direction. "Situation?"  
  
"Zero's heading to City Hall now," the panther, whose name was Fang, reported. "Agent Cassius reported it a minute ago."  
  
"And Signas?" Boomer continued without pause.  
  
The white tiger, Kismet, fielded that one. "He entered City Hall an hour ago. Figure another hour or so before they finish up, and God knows how long for formalities."  
  
"Right," Boomer rasped simply. Even his voice was eerie. The lanky beetle darted over to a separate corner of the rooftop and activated his internal communicator. He used a channel that Cyber Peacock had set aside strictly for Maverick purposes. "Boomer Kuwangner."  
  
"Malevex," a voice replied from a hundred miles away. "Your status?"  
  
"We are on schedule," Kuwangner replied. "Zero is going to City Hall, and Signas is still there. Repeat: both targets remain in the area."  
  
There was silence on the other end. "The operation is a go," Malevex ordered at last, and Kuwangner shut off his communicator. Now, there was real work to be done. "Comrades," he said, switching his communicator back on and to another frequency, "get into position. It is happening."  
  
____________________  
  
Inside what passed for Seraph Castle's intelligence center, Malevex leaned heavily on a table next to the radio he'd just used and wondered how exactly in the hell had they gotten into this mess? What was it about commanders, he asked the vacant air, that inspired them to make drastic changes to a plan that was about to succeed?  
  
But this wasn't Gredam's fault, Malevex knew. He had his orders, too.  
  
"It will work," said the man in question.  
  
"Boomer doesn't like it," Malevex replied to his friend as he moved to join him at a table. "Neither do I. It was thrown together too fast."  
  
"All of the intelligence that the Serpent sold us has been correct up to this point," Gredam pointed out.  
  
"'The best laid plans of mice and men,'" Mortar quoted innocently from where he stared down at a map of Sub-City 3.  
  
"Don't worry so much," Gredam asserted. "The overall goal is simple. Kill one, take the other, and if things go badly just kill 'em all."  
  
"I wish we could just kill them both outright!" Malevex stated. "Instead, we're inviting Zero inside our base, where he will eventually escape and destroy us all."  
  
"Oh," Mortar said nostalgically, "you always were such a pessimist! It's just like old times! Thank you, Vexy, it's been so long since I've heard it—no one quite gripes like you can."  
  
"You should hear him when things are really going well," Teytha observed dryly.  
  
"Someone's got to think logically for us," the spook pointed out. "Name me one optimist who ever got anywhere in a military campaign!"  
  
"Hitler," Gredam pointed out easily.  
  
"That doesn't count! He lost in the end; the early days of the war mean nothing."  
  
"And he also became a pessimist in the end," Teytha pointed out sweetly. "He did better when he was accentuating the positive."  
  
"And getting his rocks off of torture and murder all the while," Malevex countered.  
  
"Well, we aren't angels either, are we?" Teytha pointed out.  
  
"Don't worry, we'll take good care of Zero," Mortar said with a chuckle. "If you're that afraid of him, then just stay away from him."  
  
"My sniper rifle's in my quarters," Malevex offered. "You go shoot X in the head, and then tell me if you're not afraid of that man. He doesn't forget it when you knock out a friend."  
  
"Neither do we," Gredam said quietly, ending the conversation. "Focus on the mission at hand."  
  
Malevex sighed and glanced down at the map of Sub-City 3. Zero would enter City Hall soon, and in about two hours he and Signas would be on the road heading for the station that would teleport them back to Hunter Headquarters. That was when Boomer would strike, assassinating Signas and incapacitating Zero. The final part of the mission was to get Zero to Seraph Castle and into confinement, and that was a plan Malevex did not support. It was less because of any personal fear of the crimson Hunter than the fact that the Hunters had not been able to penetrate them thus far, and inviting a known terror of a soldier into the core of their war effort seemed like a bad idea. An enemy like Zero needed to die, plain and simple. Dicking around like this with capture and whatnot had gotten Sigma killed…how many times was it?  
  
No matter. They had a job to do, and it would get done. Diavus had gotten a tip from Guyver, a man working for the Gold Serpent. Diavus had conferred with Malevex and the information was deemed purchasable. Diavus bought a disc from Guyver and on it was the exact time and place of a meeting between Signas, Zero, and the Megacity Council. Malevex sorely wished that they had the ability to send a Buzzbomb crashing down on the place, but Gallagher was still not quite completed. Revolver and his team were running a few final checks. Instead, they had to settle for this plan. The Mavericks would send an assault team to Sub-City 3, where they would wait for Signas and Zero to place themselves out in the open. Then, a coordinated and sudden attack would drop Signas and his guards and leave Zero open for tranquilization and capture. Boomer Kuwangner had immediately agreed to take the assignment, though even he had his reservations. Boomer had been killed once, and he was in no hurry to repeat the process. He liked it when a plan was well thought out and rehearsed, and this plan was none of those things. But, what could you do?  
  
Nothing, Malevex thought, nothing except doing what needed to be done. He'd pulled off harder things than this before, but then, he'd been the one in the field. It rather sucked, he thought, to have to sit behind a desk and coordinate things, even if this did spare him from life- threatening harm.  
  
"Kuwangner's team is headed for their post," Diavus announced from his position at the radios. "This thing's on unless you say otherwise."  
  
Malevex nodded to his underling and glanced briefly up at the ceiling. I hope you know what you're doing, he thought.  
  
____________________  
  
"…and the supplies allocated from Alden Base are yours to use as you will. If there is nothing else, then that is the Army's position," General Klementi Illy'ch Virdelko finished.  
  
"Nothing further," Signas responded.  
  
"Very well," said a heavyset, bespectacled man who sat at the head of the table. His name was Marcus Raleigh, and he was the Governor of Megacity 5. "If that is all, then I think we can conclude this meeting. Commander Signas, your reinforcements should be arriving shortly. In two days maximum, you should have all that you requested."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Signas said with a respectful nod as Raleigh closed the file in front of him. The Megacity Council began to file out of the room almost instantly, none of them much relishing the thought of being in the same place at the same time, not with missing nukes out there.  
  
Raleigh walked to Signas as the Council members brushed past them towards the exit. "I'm told that Dr. Cain is going to be passing the torch to you, Commander?"  
  
"As it stands," Signas replied awkwardly, "we're not sure of the exact details."  
  
"Don't be modest," Raleigh insisted. "You'll get the job, if Cain formally nominates you, which he will. You've already proven yourself to be a trustworthy administrator."  
  
Trustworthy meant less that he was of admirable moral character, Signas knew, than that he would not easily submit to the Sigma Virus, which, he thought, was really a valid concern for Raleigh, who had a giant city to look out for. "Thank you, sir. For the moment, though, my concern is removing Seraph Castle from the map."  
  
Raleigh smiled, already liking the Commander. "You'll do well, Commander. Knock 'em dead."  
  
Signas stood politely still as Marcus Raleigh passed him and exited, accompanied by several bodyguards, which also was to be expected—Mavericks liked to kill influential humans to send a message. He found himself trying to decide what kind of man Raleigh was, and if he liked the politician. Well, Raleigh might have been as career oriented as the rest of the bastards, but to his credit he was a very effective administrator who, as far as Signas could tell, actually liked Reploids. He liked them mostly for their potential as workers, not soldiers, but he didn't seem to carry the unfair prejudice against Signas' race that the Mavericks had bred in so many other humans. For that, he could be respected, Signas decided.  
  
The big Reploid turned and nearly collided with General Virdelko, who was coming to talk to him.  
  
"Thank you for your support, General," Signas said at once, half meaning it. Unlike Raleigh, Virdelko wasn't all that fond of Reploids, and most of them knew it. Still, it was nice that Virdelko didn't put up a huge fuss about the money that the Army would have to spend replacing all of the toys that the Hunters would inevitably break while fighting the Mavericks in the Catskills.  
  
"Colonel Kitao made all the arrangements beforehand," Klementi Illy'ch answered with a slight nod of acknowledgement. "We have a common enemy, after all. We must make haste."  
  
"Agreed." What the hell else could he say? Not much, apparently, as Virdelko walked off right afterwards. The Grand Commander saw Alan Kitao near the door. He conferred briefly with Virdelko before they both left the room. Bastards, Signas thought. Virdelko was an arrogant prick, though not as bad as his underling. Colonel Kitao was a known asshole who treated Reploids like they were something that had dripped out of his nose.  
  
"Infuriating, isn't it?" said a new voice. Signas looked to his left and then down. Finally! A non-asshole!  
  
"Excuse me? What?" Signas replied innocently.  
  
"Sometimes," the man replied, "I just want to jam cattle prongs into that Kitao's…but let's not go there."  
  
"Don't tempt me."  
  
"Of course," said the man—he was a purple Reploid of average height decked out in a long white lab coat—"it would be cruel to do a thing like that. Now, perhaps removing their ears…"  
  
"Lord, Gate!" Signas laughed despite himself. "I don't know how you ever got a security pass!"  
  
"I stole mine," Gate replied with a casual shrug. "Come on, Signas, no one ever suspects the wormy scientist. You know that."  
  
"I wonder what people would think if they knew that the 'wormy scientist' carried more mines on him than half an army…"  
  
"Well! It's a dangerous world out there," Gate laughed as he followed his old comrade out the door.  
  
Sub-City 3's City Hall had several outer walkways through gardens, and the two Reploids decided to take a walk down one of the said paths. When they were a safe distance from prying eyes or ears, Gate piped up.  
  
"Am I going to learn why I was summoned here, or do I get to just wait in terrible suspense?"  
  
"Suspense," Signas responded.  
  
"Fine," Gate shrugged. "I've got something to tell you, anyway."  
  
"Me first," Signas said, and stopped. He was staring at a nearby flowerbed, though his mind was not on lilacs at the moment.  
  
"Goddamned soldiers!" Gate groaned. "Make up your mind! How do you win wars, for chrissakes?"  
  
"We're special like that," Signas grinned. "And that's why you help us out."  
  
"Well I'm reconsidering, you inconsistent bastard," Gate said as he stretched. The morning air—it was still morning, after all—was nice. The factories hadn't switched on quite yet, and this was about the only time where you could breathe semi-unpolluted air.  
  
"That's right…you never were a morning person, were you?" Signas chuckled and yawned like the hypocrite he was. "All right. I need you guys to help us out on a sensitive issue."  
  
"What else is new?" Gate snorted. "Oh, don't mind me. Go on."  
  
"After Doppler was busted," Signas went on warily, "the codes he used were adapted by the Hunters for our own use. This is confidential, by the way."  
  
"Of course," Gate nodded. "If I talk, you beat and torture me until I name my co-conspirators."  
  
"We don't do that anymore," Signas pointed out. "Nowadays I just walk up and shoot you."  
  
"Well that's not so bad." Gate smirked evilly. "Oh fine, I'll be good. So, you have this code…and let me guess, the Mavericks figured it out?"  
  
"Of course," Signas nodded. "The lab we got the code root from wasn't properly destroyed, and now it's in Maverick territory."  
  
"Jesus," Gate observed. "You guys really need to be more careful with these things. Go on."  
  
Signas was surprised at the shortness of the lecture. Lecturing was something that Gate was fond of. "Well, we need to get the Mavericks out of there so we can examine the place and find out exactly what codes they managed to crack. From that, we can determine exactly how much they know, and what we have to change. But we can't send in one of our own units, because…"  
  
"They might go Maverick one day, and you'd be in a fix." Gate nodded. "You do know that I'm not perfect either, right? My circuits are just as corruptible as yours."  
  
"That's why I trust you," Signas said with a smirk of his own. "Seriously now, do you think you might be able to help us? We'd need you to send a small group of your investigators to the spot—we call it UNDINE—and have them dispatch the Mavericks present and retrieve the necessary information."  
  
"Right," Gate nodded. "Any other conditions?"  
  
"Well, last night we observed a military exercise near the UNDINE site." Signas' voice fell. "It killed one of our spy pilots."  
  
"Damn," Gate observed. He wasn't involved enough to care about Carlos Delgado's life in particular, Signas knew, but it was the situation itself that struck Gate. "So this place may be near heavy reinforcements?"  
  
Signas nodded. "However, that's why we're planning to have your Investigators move in at the same time that we're launching our main attack. This way, the defenses can't be solely focused on you."  
  
Gate nodded thoughtfully, though he spent several minutes thinking. Thinking was one of his best talents, and after those few minutes he knew everything he needed to know. "All right. It's the mountains, so Wolfang will be a must. He's damn good in that kind of environment. Also, if you're doing an infiltration, Scarabich is the guy. He's insanely skilled at entering supposedly secure areas. And for support…I suppose I could send Heatnix. He's the only other guy I have up here now anyway. I just hope the damned flames he gives off doesn't alert anyone."  
  
Signas nodded. "We can work out the finer points later. But for now…you think we can do it? We'll reimburse you, of course."  
  
Gate smiled. "Money's hardly a problem, old friend. I'll just tell some other country that I need a wee bit more money to make the vaccine to that terrible disease they need cured. You'd be amazed how quickly things happen when certain strings get pulled."  
  
"And they call you the good guy," Signas scoffed.  
  
"I am! I'm just the unorthodox good guy, and that's why people love me: I go places, I make people happy, and I maintain peace. You, you save zillions of lives and create the peace I maintain, and no one likes you people. You know why?"  
  
"Because, being soldiers, we can destroy the world but can't add two plus two?"  
  
"Well, yes, that, and you have yet to come up with a permanent solution for the Sigma Virus." The scientist shook his head. "The woes of the human race are yours to cure. The Reploids, on the other hand, depend on me, and yet most Reploids aren't all that fond of me. It's an interesting dichotomy."  
  
"To say the least," Signas agreed. "Okay, so, what was it you had to say to me?"  
  
"It's quite interesting, considering the deal we just made." Gate stretched again. "I have a man in Brazil. Commander Yammark, you know him. He's a dragonfly Reploid, good recon guy. Anyway, he was buzzing about in the jungle one day, and he and his boys came across something interesting." Gate looked Signas in the eyes. "What exactly does Caligula think that the Mavericks are going to do after they launch the nukes, if that is indeed what they're planning to do?"  
  
Signas frowned. "We imagine that they have a backup base somewhere. Seraph Castle, tough as it is, will not hold out long against a determined assault. We have to assume that they have some place to evacuate their main personnel to."  
  
"Well, pal, I think Yammark found it."  
  
"Really!" Signas had hoped that this was where the conversation was leading. "In Brazil?"  
  
"Deep in the Amazon," Gate affirmed. "It's only about halfway complete, really. Big place, guarded decently, but without any really skilled defense troops." Gate reached into a pocket in his coat and produced two pictures. He handed the first one to Signas. "This is the base commander, or at least, that's what Yammark assumes."  
  
"Split Mushroom," Signas said with a slow shake of his head. "How many times to we have to kill that prick?"  
  
"It gets better. Well not really, but…" Gate showed him the other picture. "Yammark did some digging. This guy is called "The Breaker". He's a mercenary of sorts, a security expert who manages high-risk defense systems. He'll be in charge of their protection for the time being."  
  
"I've never heard of this guy."  
  
"That doesn't surprise me. The Breaker keeps a low profile. Looks like he got in a little too deep this time though. Thing is," Gate said weakly, "he spotted Yammark. He knows that the base is being watched, so we can't use the dragonfly surveillance method anymore."  
  
"Damn." Signas loved that trick. "Well, this is fine, we know their base. But, dammit, Brazil? How were they gonna get that far south? Oh, forget that, the Hunters have to take care of them." Signas frowned gloriously. "Brazil's Hunter team isn't all that powerful…and we're going to need to devote our manpower to stopping Seraph Castle. Damn!"  
  
"I can order Commander Yammark to work with the Brazilian military," Gate offered. "It's slightly unorthodox, but an air strike on the compound will probably do sufficient damage to it. From there, the ground troops can move in for the kill."  
  
Signas considered this. "How hard will it be to get the army's help?"  
  
"Not hard. They like me down there." Gate stretched yet again. "I guess we'll have to open the communication links, eh? I can probably throw something together for both this UNDINE thing and for Brazil."  
  
"Thanks. It's a real relief."  
  
"Just win the damn war."  
  
"If things proceed as they are, that will be easy enough." Signas was confident. "Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Alia sends her regards."  
  
"Alia!" Gate perked up. "How is she doing lately? I heard she was messed up pretty badly in the mess at the quarry."  
  
"Some of her internal structure was messed up…the laser she got hit with melted some things, I'm afraid."  
  
"Owch. How's she getting along?" Alia had been one of Gate's pupils some years ago, before she joined the Hunters. Even now, she was heavily tied to Gate's operations, and Gate was a man who troubled himself to care about the well being of his friends and associates.  
  
"Oh, she's recovered," Signas reassured him. "She just won't be doing any more fighting. She's left X's unit to serve as a general dispatcher for our missions, but she still works closely with Unit 17." The Commander smirked. "Don't worry, pal. We take good care of your lovely lady."  
  
"My dear Commander!" Gate laughed. "Don't make me assassinate you!" Though he couldn't possibly have known it, it was the worst thing in the world for Gate to say on this particular day.  
  
Footsteps stopped their conversation. Gate and Signas turned and acknowledged Zero, who had just arrived and found, to his great joy, that the Council meeting was over and Signas was merely passing time chatting with Gate.  
  
"How'd it go with the Colonel?" Signas asked.  
  
"Jonsey never changes," Zero responded vaguely.  
  
"What can we count on?"  
  
"Ride armors, a Raven or two, some mobile artillery, everything we needed," Zero responded to his boss.  
  
"That's one more relief, then." Signas turned to the scientist. "I believe you know Gate, Zero?"  
  
"Yes," the Hunter answered, extending his hand. "We've met a few times. Impressive work you do overseas, sir."  
  
"Thank you," Gate replied, shaking hands. "We're making a lot of progress lately, not counting this current crisis." Gate and Zero did indeed know each other. The first time they'd met had been at a convention to reorganize the list of priorities for the Maverick Hunters and the Megacity Army so that proper funds could be distributed—about the only thing the two armies liked about their government was the fact that money was freely given to them nowadays, to control the Maverick threat by building new toys. It was actually using those toys, however, that the government hassled them about. Gate and Zero had formed first impressions of each other at their first meeting, and those impressions still stood; Gate thought Zero was an arrogant, hasty, impulsive firebrand and Zero thought Gate was an overbearing, self-important lackey of the government. So, perversely, they got along extremely well.  
  
"There is a matter of a missing ride armor," Zero told Signas. "Jones was building a test model, and he believes it was stolen."  
  
"The Marauder?" Gate put in.  
  
"How'd you know?" Zero frowned.  
  
Gate shrugged. "I already knew that the completed Marauder had vanished. At first I assumed that it was just an error in its storage files, but further investigation revealed that no one really knew where it was."  
  
"What is this 'Marauder'?" Signas felt left out.  
  
Gate glanced at Zero and got a nod; the crimson Hunter had rightly guessed that Gate knew more about the ride armor than he did. "It's a new ride armor model, designed to throw all the capabilities of the old ones into one big battle body. It's not especially big, but it's still bigger than any other model we know of, and it's armed to the teeth—missiles, napalm, lightsaber blades, lasers, machine guns, and even a cryogenic beam to aid in infiltrations. You know, when you freeze a section of a wall and then destroy it? The Marauder can also hover, like the Eagle, and can enter full-blown flight for a short time, though it taxes heavily on its generator, and it's slow in the air. It's not much faster on ground, and, in fact, most of its weapons are hard to reload and the energy attacks really do a number on its power supply…and this is with the best small generator that the Megacity System had available, complete with energen crystals. This I know from files given to me by the Army when they developed the project. Of course, I didn't see this happening, though I should have."  
  
"It's always the most obvious scenarios that we never take into consideration," Signas observed. "Well, it's just one ride armor. We'll deal with it when we come to it, if it has fallen into enemy hands."  
  
Gate nodded. "A few regular ride armors can successfully take that thing on and destroy it. It's hardly invincible. It's meant for clearing out foot soldiers, really."  
  
"Sounds like it'd do a pretty good job," Zero thought out loud.  
  
"Let's hope we never have to find out for sure," Signas said direly. He turned to Gate. "Nice to see you again, but it's about time to head on home."  
  
"Indeed," the scientist nodded. "We've both got work to do." He shook both Signas and Zero's hands and followed the path around to the back of City Hall, doubtless to meet with the transportation that had brought him here.  
  
"What's up?" Zero asked as they walked in the opposite direction, back into City Hall and towards their own motorcade. It was a short drive to the Hunter station where they could use teleportation capsules to return directly to Hunter Headquarters in Megacity 5. Signas and his two bodyguards—it seemed unlikely that a big guy like Signas would need bodyguards, but still, you could never be too careful—had a speedy car that'd get them where they were going, and Zero would ride ahead on his hovercycle. It wasn't often anymore that Zero got to ride one, and he'd always loved the feel of the wind in his face, though less so during these colder months.  
  
"We'll be ready in two days, possibly three, and I won't wait longer than four. I wish we hadn't dispersed so much of our equipment after the Repliforce War or we'd be moving already."  
  
"How could we have expected this?" Zero challenged. "But it's no big deal, I guess. What about Gate?"  
  
"He can get us the help we need," Signas said simply. "Also, it seems that he's found a Maverick base in Brazil. He'll be taking that out for us."  
  
"Really? Awfully nice of him."  
  
"Don't look the gift horse in the mouth," Signas reminded his associate. "And speaking of gift horses, it looks like Virdelko hasn't quite bugged out yet. I'm gonna clarify a few things with him. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
"Roger," Zero answered with a yawn, leaning against a wall in the small antechamber in the Hall's lobby. There weren't many people left, and Zero found himself briefly alone. Another presence announced itself with heavy footsteps, and Zero didn't trouble himself to identify the person until the newcomer spoke.  
  
"Dangerous times, eh Zero?"  
  
Zero stood up straight and looked towards the Reploid. "So long as you guys come through, Chartreuse, there won't be a problem."  
  
Chartreuse waved his hand dismissively and crossed his arms over his chest. He wore no armor, and looked rather like a middle aged human man. He was like Caligula in the sense that he always had a trench coat handy, but that was where the similarities ended between the two. Zero didn't much like Caligula, but that was because they were in different fields that required almost entirely different operating methods. He didn't like Chartreuse, either, and there was no real reason for that. It confused Zero. To his knowledge, Chartreuse hadn't offended him in any way, nor had he done anything particularly bad, so where did the mistrust factor in? When Chartreuse spoke, he appeared calm and methodical, and most of the time was very reasonable. There was no doubt to the fact that he was an excellent fighter. Zero by rights should have liked the guy, but still…there was just something about Chartreuse that made Zero's skin crawl, so to speak, and when Zero had those kinds of feelings, he never ignored them.  
  
"It's not a problem," Chartreuse assured the Hunter. "This is one of those situations where there isn't much of a choice, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," Zero agreed. Go away, he thought as loudly as he could. No luck. Well, maybe small talk would satisfy him. "So what do they have you doing nowadays?"  
  
This elicited a shrug. "I get to command a team of dragoons on the ground. Our prime concern will be the walls of Seraph Castle…deactivating the booby traps, I mean."  
  
"Sounds dangerous as hell," Zero opined genuinely.  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm the idiot who went and impressed my superiors. I'm just not sure how. Reploids don't usually get this far in the Army."  
  
"Yeah," Zero nodded, not knowing what else to say. Normally he would have let the other guy know without a doubt that he had no interest in talking to him, but something deep inside Zero prevented him from blowing Chartreuse off. What the hell was it? Fear? But of what? "What's your take on the Maverick bosses?" He scarcely realized that he had spoken.  
  
Chartreuse blinked. "That Gredam dude, you mean?" Absolutely no emotion seeped its way onto Chartreuse's face, though inside he was a wee bit nervous. He chose his words very, very carefully, and went on. "I've had some experience with his kind…you know, the kind of Maverick that keeps vanishing from the radar, and reappearing someplace else with a better cache of weapons?"  
  
"I follow you," Zero nodded. "Not necessarily like Sigma, but still an elusive bastard?"  
  
"Yeah. I used to track fugitives for Interpol before coming to the Army," Chartreuse lied. "I still do a bit of that, but not much, and it's usually stuff that any amateur could find out." He threw the Hunter a wry grin. "High up for a Reploid, I am, but still a Reploid, trusted with tying my shoelaces and not much more."  
  
"It does suck," Zero agreed. "No wonder Repliforce was so highly motivated all the time…there, Reploids were trusted with absolutely everything."  
  
"And look what happened to Repliforce," Chartreuse pointed out. "Just like that, a perfectly good management system is thrown into skepticism. But oh well…can't really change the world, can we?"  
  
"Sure we can: we can lose."  
  
"Too true." Chartreuse nodded. Signas stopped at the end of the hallway and waved Zero towards him. Chartreuse noticed and nodded cordially to Zero. "Well, I won't keep you, then. See you on the frontlines, I suppose."  
  
"Right," Zero responded with a nod of his own and started towards Signas, grateful to be going, though still not knowing why he was so uncomfortable in Chartreuse's presence. Chartreuse…stupid name! They should call him Blackie, Zero thought. There was no chartreuse coloring on him…just black. Black coat, black clothes, black hair, probably even black eyes, if that was possible. Zero had never checked.  
  
The man in question watched Zero and Signas leave before turning away. He got about two feet before another voice stopped him.  
  
"I really don't understand you," Colonel Alan Kitao said icily. "You play both sides as easily as you drink air!"  
  
"I don't breathe," Chartreuse pointed out distractedly. "Don't have to, I mean."  
  
"Shut up! You know what I mean, and you know what I'm talking about!" Kitao fixed "his" Reploid with a dire stare. "You're the one who caused all of this."  
  
At this Chartreuse whirled and faced his superior with an even colder stare. "Correction, boss! YOU started this. Actually it was Thornton who started this, and got Virdelko on the ticket, but YOU are the one who got all gung-ho about Terrornova, you and Komanov. Anything and everything I ever did to them or to anyone was done under your orders."  
  
"How do I know that?" Kitao all but growled back. "You can't prove that. You can't blame anything on me."  
  
"Do I have to?" Chartreuse asked with an innocent smile. "Come on, Al. Everyone knows that I take my orders from you, and I follow them to a T. I do my job real well and real accurate, and Virdelko knows it, else he'd have never let me stay on this long. If you go accusing me of this, who's gonna doubt that it was your order to begin with?"  
  
"It wasn't!"  
  
"Prove it."  
  
Kitao recoiled. "You really think that people would take the word of a…of a…"  
  
"A Reploid?" Chartreuse offered quietly. "A lowly Reploid servant's word against a known rogue like yourself? Yes, I think they'll take my word, and even if they don't, you'll still be under too much suspicion to do any more worthwhile things with your career."  
  
"You'd blackmail me?!"  
  
"I don't want to, boss, but you're not giving me much of a choice!" Chartreuse calmed himself and began to speak reasonably, a tactic he used to all but hypnotize people into lowering their guard. "You're overreacting. The goal has been achieved, so what's the problem?"  
  
"The problem?" Kitao exploded, though he exploded in a quiet hiss. "The problem is that you gave the Mavericks nuclear warheads!!!"  
  
"No," Chartreuse corrected him while stifling a yawn. "I gave them—well, I didn't give them anything as much as I told them where to find them—a few broken pieces of scrap that were once nuclear weapons, but are now nothing more than paperweights. These 'Buzzbombs' are nothing but the physical form of an empty threat. The whole point was to stir you guys into action…you were just gonna sit on your hands until the Mavericks tried something really deadly, I knew it! So I leaked some info, and now, just like that, the Mavericks are going down." Chartreuse conveniently left out the important detail that had Ludwig not been searching for a treasure, the fact that the bombs had been stolen would never have come to anyone's attention. Kitao, however, didn't notice.  
  
"What else?" the Colonel said ominously. "The other reason, Chartreuse. Now."  
  
"Other reason? You mean, 'them'?"  
  
Kitao didn't answer with anything other than a glare.  
  
"I was programmed to follow orders given to me," Chartreuse explained defensively. "You ordered me to kill the Terrornova fugitives…and I did. I got most of them, took them right out of commission. But, 'most' is not 'all', and my orders were to destroy every last one of them."  
  
"Surely you don't mean for me to believe that…"  
  
"What should I have thought? That failure was an option?" Chartreuse glowered convincingly. "No, boss, I don't fail. But up to this point I have not succeeded, either. I can't accept that my most important mission never came to completion, and now that these fools have placed themselves back in the open…" An involuntary grin crept onto his face. "Well, sir, that means I still have work to do. Now that you're going to mobilize, those Mavericks are as good as dead. And this time," Chartreuse said with conviction, "I'm gonna make damn sure of that."  
  
"You had better," Kitao said after a few seconds of reflection. He let out a long breath and spun on his heel, marching off to rejoin General Virdelko.  
  
Chartreuse turned and spat on the wall. It was the most vulgar thing he could think to do. What hypocrites they all were! They were bound by their stupid prejudices and stubborn thought processes that never accomplished anything in the end. The Army was too busy worrying about thinking things out and how to minimize costs of all things while the enemy did whatever they pleased. The Hunters, conversely, just got up and dealt with the problem. But, they didn't use any thought process at all, so that made them just as bad. Why couldn't there be just one organization in Megacity 5 that knew what the hell it was doing?  
  
But there was, he reminded himself. One group existed that had only one real goal, and they did their jobs with a skill so great that none of the law enforcement agencies had been able to catch them. Guyver had been very proud of that during his last meeting with Chartreuse, when he'd collected insider information about the X74-Marauder. A few days later, the Marauder had been stolen from Alden Base. The Gold Serpent was happy with that development, Chartreuse thought with a smirk.  
  
It was time. Chartreuse walked ten steps towards the door where Zero and Signas had exited City Hall, and activated an internal communicator. "Heads up, BK," Chartreuse said in a low tone. "They're on the move, and headed your way."  
  
____________________  
  
About a mile away, perched on a rooftop overlooking the road leading the Hunter station in Sub-City 3, Boomer Kuwangner answered his communicator and responded with a simple "Affirmative." He then switched channels and alerted Malevex. Thirty seconds later he was met with a "green light"—the mission was a go. Kuwangner switched channels again and told his troops the same thing. One roof over, Fang and Kismet tensed, and prepared for the moment of action.  
  
Around the same time, the citizens of Sub-City 3 gradually began head home. It wasn't that work had let out, or anything. It was just that those who had been out on other matters decided that it was a good time to get out of the open. There was no real way to explain why this happened. It was merely a sixth sense that the citizens had…something was going to happen. You could feel it in the air. These people had experienced a lot of this sort of thing since Sigma rebelled, and no one was much in the mood to tempt fate.  
  
As he hopped onto his hovercycle a mile away, at the City Hall garage, Zero made a mild mental note that the streets were rather barren. He didn't give it any more thought than that as he started his engine. 


	27. Suburban Warfare

Chapter Twenty-Six: Suburban Warfare 

            Barrier Greenback had never been so proud in his life.

            The toad sat on a high stool, watching from the window of his office as the final Buzzbomb was loaded under _Gallagher_'s right wing. The ship's weapon systems were now fully online, and the missile launchers worked like a charm. There was little more that Revolver's crew could do…_Gallagher _was battle ready.

            And the best part, Greenback told himself, was that the Buzzbombs might actually work.

            A team led by Boomer Kuwangner had done the actual Buzzbomb recovery. The devices Boomer had brought back to Revolver were aged, rusty, and useless at first glance. But, really, you don't just throw a nuclear weapon in the garbage. A nuke only comes into one's hands once in a very blue moon, Greenback thought. They had to make _some _effort to salvage the Buzzbombs, once they discerned what they were capable of. The strategic capabilities of such a weapon were priceless for the Mavericks…the ability to take out an area with the radius of a city block held great possibilities. They could surgically remove Hunter Headquarters and all its assets from the map while focusing the rest of their firepower elsewhere. The sudden loss of a headquarters and most of their commanding officers would be too much for the Hunters—they'd never recover in time to mount a counterattack. The Mavericks would seize control of Megacity 5 after defeating the wimpy Megacity Army. How long they would hold it was another story entirely, Greenback knew, but during that time they could do a number of things crucial to their cause.

            Once this possibility had been confirmed, Revolver had looked to Greenback to make that possibility into a reality. The Buzzbombs were decrepit and needed a lot of tricky work, not to mention some plutonium. The Mavericks had many resources throughout the world, and a contact was able to smuggle some of the plutonium into the Catskills, but only enough to support two or three of the Buzzbombs. That was all right, Greenback had learned, because only two of the original five Buzzbombs had any potential at all left in them.

            Welding was Greenback's trade, but bombs were his hobby. The kooky frog often spent his free time hanging out in his personal laboratory, devising demolitions devices that The Team was always more than willing to implement. Greenback was extremely good at his trade, and so when Revolver had realized that he himself didn't have the technical know-how to fix the Buzzbombs, Greenback had been assigned the task.

            Nuclear weapons were a new thing for the frog. Sure, he was good at all conventional bombs, but even he made mistakes. One time he'd blown up his office in Steel Alley, hurting himself more than a little. Fortunately it had been a small bomb, and they had been able to reattach his arm. Shortly afterwards, when he'd joined the Mavericks, Greenback had installed a barrier program in himself similar to Armored Armadillo's Rolling Shield, just in case he made any more mistakes.

            He'd heavily doubted the reliability of a Rolling Shield against a nuclear blast, though, and so he'd taken painstaking steps to make sure he did things right. He studied for weeks before even touching the Buzzbombs, and that was saying something, considering Reploids could simply upload information into their databanks without going through the time-consuming learning process that humans suffer through whenever they have to learn a new skill. Greenback made sure that he knew the ins and outs of every nuclear bomb variant in existence, and he'd pulled up the old files of the Buzzbombs themselves, files written when the United States had placed the Buzzbombs among their nuclear arsenal. He'd learned everything there was to know about the bombs, and then and only then had he started work on his task.

            One of the first things that he learned was that as easy as it was for a nuke to blow up a city, it was considerably difficult to detonate the damned things. All kinds of wires had to cross at once, systems had to flow in a certain way, the detonating mechanism had to go through three specific strokes, and it just went on and on and on. Any number of factors could make the process go wrong, and Greenback soon realized that try as he might he could not do anything about that.

            What he had been able to do, however, was transform the Buzzbombs from defective pieces of scrap into the real nuclear weapons that they had been years earlier.

            Actually, Greenback admitted, that was a generous summarization. He'd been able to fix two Buzzbombs, and "fix" was a very technical phrase. Sure, they _could _work. It didn't mean that they would. Greenback had modified the warheads and used his plutonium to reactivate them. All that was needed for the bombs to become live was to push a button inside _Gallagher. _The proper circuits would then be completed and the warheads would merely wait for impact.

            And even then, "impact" did not necessarily mean "detonation". Greenback figured that there was about a fifty/fifty chance of his two successfully reactivated Buzzbombs going off. Yes, he'd been able to rewire the warheads, but like he'd noted earlier, any number of factors could throw them out of whack. The Buzzbombs were fragile things, after all. The men inside _Gallagher_—and the humans and Hunters looking on—would all hold their breath when the Buzzbombs flew, waiting to see which way the coin of fate would turn up. That would make Greenback feel somewhat powerless, he knew, and he didn't like that much at all.

            If the warhead failed, the Buzzbomb would be useless. Or at least, that was the case when Greenback began his work. However, to guard against total duds, he'd personally fashioned the delivery missiles that he'd attach the Buzzbomb warheads to. Even if the warhead failed, the missile shafts were loaded with some very explosive materials. They would do major damage to any structure they hit…no, they wouldn't destroy Hunter HQ, but the damage would be significant. However, if the warhead did work, Greenback knew, a crater would replace Hunter HQ as planned.

            The man who'd tipped the Mavericks off about the Buzzbombs…what had his name been? Greenback couldn't recall it. He was an agent of the Gold Serpent, and the name was probably false, but whoever it was was in a high spot in the Megacity Army. No doubt he thought he'd been selling the Mavericks pieces of trash. Greenback wondered vaguely what that man would think if he knew what Greenback had accomplished now. He'd probably soil himself, the frog thought with a cackle. Those Army blokes never could stand up to the Mavericks, even when they'd used conventional weapons. Giving the Mavericks nukes, however…well, that man would soon feel like a real idiot, Greenback was sure.

            Two Buzzbombs…two targets. What could they be? Hunter HQ, that was for sure, Greenback thought. How could any sane Maverick pass up a target like that? The Team WAS sane, right? But that was target one, and assuming it didn't take both Buzzbombs to destroy Hunter HQ, where was target two? The Council Building at the center of Megacity 5? No, Greenback decided, that wouldn't accomplish anything. Anyone important would be evacuated from the building before _Gallagher _made its approach. The Council Building could be destroyed with the cluster missiles _Gallagher _carried, if it needed to be destroyed at all. What else, then? Alden Base? No, that was just a reserve station—all its important gear would be at Hunter HQ by now anyway. So what?! What did that leave? _What was target number two?_

            Greenback didn't get a chance to think that one through any further. Revolver walked into the office slowly, leaning against the doorframe. He looked doped up, Greenback thought, but that was probably due to lack of sleep or rest of any kind. Revolver had been working round the clock with Greenback and Chuck to put the finishing touches on their airship.

            "Well, good sir," Revolver said, and stopped to allow for a huge yawn. "I believe we are good to go. A few more systems checks and tests…give or take two days."

            "Greenback is pleased," the frog replied. "Are Buzzbombs working properly?"

            "They are," Revolver replied with a nod. "You did a stellar job, Greenback. You actually gave us nuclear weapons."

            "Nonsense," he croaked back modestly. "Greenback just…built on what was already there."

            Revolver chuckled. "You don't give yourself enough credit. Anyway, I'd say it's about time we called it a night. Chuck and I are headed back into the castle to see if we can't grab a drink before Gravity Beetle stops selling it. Care to join us?"

            "Greenback will do just that!" The frog hopped off the stool and bounded over to the door. "Has been too long since Greenback had drink."

            "I share your pain." Revolver let Greenback lead the way and followed the frog slowly, letting a number of thoughts roll through his tired mind. After this job was over, Revolver would be staging a coup d'état of sorts in Steel Alley. Chuck was already working with him on the matter, but they hadn't spoken to Greenback about it yet. Frankly, Revolver didn't know if he could be trusted. Greenback's loyalty was to Steel Alley's engineers less than the Alley itself…Revolver thought he could mold his motives to fit the engineers' best interests, at least in Greenback's eyes. The frog would be an invaluable member of Revolver's team. He'd already proven that. Revolver, like so many others, had vastly underestimated the intelligence that Greenback carried in his head. Now that he knew Greenback's full potential, however, Revolver was reconsidering his earlier judgments.

            He glanced behind him at the airship that would soon change the world. All it would take was this one mission, Revolver knew, and everything would switch around. If he managed to survive, he'd have a whole new world of opportunities.

            He didn't know yet that a mission was underway in Sub-City 3 that would throw a real wrench into his gears. That was the problem with conspiracies…more often than not there were other conspiracies going on around you.

____________________

            Fang landed on the roof of a library overlooking the main road and crouched down. He clutched his sniper rifle in his right hand, with the safety off. He hated using the cumbersome weapon, but it would only be for a moment. Two rooftops away he spied Kismet crouching in a similar manner. Fang envied her. She got to carry an RPG—rocket propelled grenade, more easily defined as a "bazooka"—rather than a sniper rifle, because her role in the mission was a bit different. Other Mavericks appeared on nearby rooftops, getting into position for the attack that was to follow. With Boomer Kuwangner, that made nine Mavericks in this mission.

            There was some traffic on the roads, but it was light—most people had already left for work over in Megacity 5, and this was mainly a residential area. The rush hour was more or less over. Traffic was dwindling even further now, as though to make the Mavericks' job easier. Fang grinned toothily. The panther had signed onto this mission mainly for the chance to prove himself. He'd been left out of the quarry and Blackstar missions. Instead, he'd been used mainly for reconnaissance, something he was good at. His stealth was what had gotten him the green light for this mission. His friend Kismet had helped him with his spy work, but she'd been somewhat higher in clearance rank. Not that she'd kept any secrets from Fang, of course. She had been working closely with a Maverick named Tetra who was currently stationed in a Reploid junkyard that serviced "fairly intact junk" which was an oxymoron if Fang had ever heard one. Tetra's job had been to divert salvageable mechaniloids to a factory in Steel Alley occupied by Mavericks. The mission had worked well, and via Tetra the Mavericks had been able to amass a group of Bee Blader hovercopters among other things. Kismet's skill at stealth had gotten her into this also, and Boomer Kuwangner tended to look to the two of them as his unofficial lieutenants. It made Fang proud.

            But nothing would make him prouder than to pull this mission off successfully, he knew. He watched the road below him—it wasn't all that far down, the library was a short building—and waited for the little motorcade to approach. Boomer would radio them all before it got close, of course, but still he paid close attention to the scene below him, daring the Hunters to make an appearance. He raised his sniper rifle and pressed his eye to the scope, scanning the area below and making sure he felt comfortable with its usage. It would only be needed if Kismet failed, and Fang highly doubted that Kismet would fail, but who knew? It paid to be careful, in a mission like this.

            Fang scanned the building tops and found the Maverick he was looking for. The Reploid had been built to resemble a cricket, or some ugly bug like that, and had probably been selected for the mission due to his jumping skills. The Maverick was also decent with a sniper rifle, only his rifle carried rounds that were not meant to kill. Rather, they contained "bullets" that disintegrated with the heat that came from impact, and they were to be used on Zero. The round would bust through his armor, but it wouldn't plow into anything critical, since the bullet itself would not be there anymore per se. Instead, the casing would be gone and the inner contents of the bullet—a powerful tranquillizer that slowed Reploid operating systems to the point of incoherency—would spread throughout the victim's body. Zero would drop like a rock and the Mavericks would make off with him. Fang would personally prefer to slit the prick's throat then and there, but the High Command or whoever had demanded that Zero be brought back alive. Signas, on the other hand, was just a target and nothing more. When his car got close enough, Kismet's RPG shell would streak down from the building tops and reduce his transport to ashes. If he or any of his guards survived, Boomer's snipers would pick them off. It was short, it was simple, and it would probably be effective.

            Assuming everyone hit their targets the first time. If not, then things could get sticky.

            Fang yawned, and it scared him. He wanted to be fully alert. So he yawned again, hoping it would get all the tiredness out of him. That was the problem with waiting…you got bored, and then you got sluggish, and then things went straight down the crapper.

            He didn't have to wait long, however. "All Mavericks, at attention!" Boomer Kuwangner's voice rasped through their radios. "Hunters on their way down the main road. Line up your sights and wait for my signal!"

____________________

            Zero knew he was breaking about a million traffic laws, but he deemed it a small price to pay for finally having a chance to screw around and be immature again. He loved hovercycles, and while he wasn't crazy about riding them down city streets, he always managed to find some way to make it a pleasant experience. He'd zoomed far ahead of Signas' car and had to turn down side roads and backtrack behind his commander…so he'd have the excuse to go even faster to catch up. The wind blew his hair around behind him like the tail of a comet, and more than one driver honked their horn or threw the crimson Hunter a rude gesture, though he barely noticed.

            Ahead in a medium-sized black car, Signas and his four guards tried to keep track of their comrade, all of them waiting for the moment when Zero would hit a telephone pole or uproot a fire hydrant. Such things usually happened whenever they could, Signas thought drearily. But, he supposed he could sympathize. Signas himself only rode in a car because his frame was too large for a hovercycle. He would have loved the freedom one of those bikes promised, but alas, t'was better to be safe than splattered over the side of the road like a cracked egg.

            They'd ridden about a mile from City Hall. The Hunter station would be coming up in a few minutes, and from there it would be smooth sailing to home, where he could get busy putting the finishing touches on BROKEN HALO. As it stood, the ground troops such as Hunter infantry and mobile artillery would move out first. When they got themselves nestled into the Catskills—which might cost them some blood, Signas thought—Hunter HQ would release its airborne units. Commander Taggart himself would lead his Ravens against Seraph Castle, equipped with the most destructive bombs that the Army could provide for them. Taggart would attack first, with the aid of the Reploid Air Force—a division of the Megacity Army composed mostly of Reploids in order to keep some former Repliforce militants from revolting again out of "discrimination"—and then the ground forces would do their thing. Signas would try to coordinate the two attack waves to be as simultaneous as possible. The point was to not give the Mavericks any time at all to launch a successful counterattack, and especially to deny them the time to fire a Buzzbomb. They assumed, after all, that the missile launchers would be somewhere in the castle. The Hunters had no idea about _Gallagher_—Carlos Delgado never had the chance to bring that information home.

            At the same time, however, a sizable force would remain at Hunter HQ consisting mostly of Alden Base's reserves and a large team of Hunter technicians. Their job would be to maintain the missile interceptors that had already been set up by Army personnel. If the Mavericks did get a Buzzbomb up in the air, the Hunters at the HQ would be charged with shooting it down. If they failed…well, Signas didn't even want to think about that.

            Much remained to be done, and most of it revolved around getting home and meeting with the other commanders. He hoped there wouldn't be any delays, especially now that his mind was fully set on work.

____________________

            Kim Stetson left her apartment shortly after nine, heading down the street to her regular coffee shop. The 20-year-old college student was spending her time off by studying, of course. She had quite a test coming up, and to fail it would mean taking the class again, and that meant more cash down the drain. She entered the coffee shop and sat down next to a man in a brown overcoat. He was both her classmate and boyfriend, and so it was only natural for them to hit the books together. First, though, as usual, they passed time at Sub-City 3's best little café before heading for the nearby library.

            "Hey, Kim," he said as she sat down.

            Stetson replied with a yawn. "Can't wake up today, Lou."

            "Sleepy day," Louis Simons agreed. "Getting colder, too. They're predicting snow at last."

            Kim blinked at that. She hadn't heard. She was planning a road trip to visit her mother this weekend, and snow might complicate things. "How bad?"

            "Blizzard," Louis replied.

            _Damn! _"Ma Nature's a bitch."

            Louis smirked. "She isn't even PMSing yet."

            "I hope that wasn't a subtle reference…?"

            "Never." Simons glanced out the window and watched the traffic as Stetson got a cappuccino for herself. It promised to be another dull day. They were both studying for a biology exam, a subject neither of them relished, but it was necessary for their career path. If they managed to survive the humdrum, maybe they could catch a movie later. There was a new one out that looked pretty funny. Louis didn't think Kim would object. If anything, she hated biology worse than he did, which was why they spent so much time stalling in this café.

            Kim returned and they sipped at their drinks while discussing recent developments in their lives. Louis's stock investments weren't going that well, and he'd been counting on them to finance the rest of his college years. Kim's father was still having some heart trouble, but it shouldn't be anything that the doctors couldn't fix. After about an hour of small talk, they conceded that procrastination wouldn't solve anything. Kim and Louis got up to leave.

____________________

            Boomer Kuwangner's eyes narrowed at the approaching motorcade…if you could call it that, really. It was just a car and a hovercycle…a hovercycle that was speeding ahead of the car. Zero was playing cowboy again. Boomer thought quickly and decided to make Zero the secondary target. They'd attack Signas first, and hopefully the shock of the situation would make Zero pause long enough for the cricket to get his shot in.

            The cricket Maverick was more than ready. He crouched on a building slightly taller than the library, and his sniper rifle was leveled at the approaching hovercycle. The targets were still too far out of range, but soon… The cricket's real name was a number…that was all he'd been to the company that had produced him. He went by the name "Loader" because that was what people had called him where he used to work. Technically it was a simple term for the type of labor he'd done, but he didn't mind using it as a name. What was in a name, after all? Loader glanced up and met Fang's eyes. The panther was glancing from comrade to comrade making sure everyone was ready. Kismet didn't even glance up. Instead, she was aiming her RPG straight down at the street below. When the black Hunter car filled her line of vision, she'd fire—or, more precisely, she'd fire when Boomer told her to.

            "Lock on," Boomer ordered. Everyone had already done that, but it was a necessary order anyway. Boomer glanced down the road. Pedestrians were scarce. That was good—there was less of a chance for one of them to get in the way. "Stand by for my order," the Maverick Boss rasped, and everyone knew full well what they'd do when they got that order. The mission had been planned and rehearsed to near perfection.

____________________

            "Near perfection" was never good enough, though there was nothing the Mavericks could have done about it. "The best laid plans of mice and men…"

            It happened suddenly and without warning. Perhaps it was inevitable—Zero couldn't continue to get lucky while driving like a maniac. The blonde Hunter decided to turn back again and race up from behind, wondering if he could beat Signas to the station even when they were so close. He nearly turned right into a large van, and the driver had to make a sudden drastic swerve…putting himself right in the middle of the main road. Signas's driver slammed hard on the brakes but the car didn't stop fast enough. The two vehicles collided with a resounding boom and a brief shower of sparks.

            Signas lurched forward, taken off guard by the shock. His four guards got out of the car, and he was dragged out along with them for fear that the vehicle might explode. On the way out, the first thing he set foot into was a pothole, and he stumbled forward past his guards rather unexpectedly.

____________________

            "What in the hell!" Boomer Kuwangner had raged when he'd seen the collision. Damn that Zero! And he'd even managed to disappear from sight!

            But wait…he was coming around, he'd turned back from that side road to examine the collision. The Hunters were getting out of the car…so was the driver of the van…was that…? Yes! It was Signas, getting out with them!

            "Now!" Kuwangner rasped sharply. "Kismet! Destroy them!"

            Two rooftops away, Kismet's body rocked with recoil as her bazooka spat out a rocket that sped straight down the road to the collision site. It wasn't the ideal spot…the car should be closer, and actually, the round might even hit the van instead—

            It did. The rocket streaked through the air and scraped the side of the stalled van, setting it off prematurely. The van driver was killed almost immediately, though the full force of the explosion hit Signas' car. One of the four guards was both incinerated and shredded by shrapnel right away, and the others were seriously hurt. Signas himself got very lucky, Kuwangner saw from his perch—the fortunate bastard had tripped, staggering past his guards and away from the blast zone…well, not entirely away from the blast zone, but far enough away that he was very much alive and mostly unhurt.

            "Snipers!" Boomer shouted into the radio. "Attack! Loader, take down Zero! All Mavericks, prepare to descend for ground assault! Over!"

____________________

            Zero had turned his hovercycle around right away, feeling like a royal ass. What in the hell had he done this time? He'd sped back towards the main street, surveying the crash site even before he got there. It didn't look too bad, he'd thought. Neither car had been moving much at the time of collision…both had hit the brakes already. They were badly jolted, but other than that…

            The explosion had thrown Zero off his hoverbike and left him sprawled out on the pavement. An axle from the black Hunter car flew like a lance through the air, impaling the brick wall of a building behind Zero. He looked up in horror. Had the crash ignited a fuel tank?

            No, he realized, something else was going on here, but his mind was sluggish from the fall. As he sorted out the cobwebs, he made out the mangled body of one of Signas's guards…no, now he remembered, there had been a whistle…a very short, soft whistle had pierced the air, and then the explosion…

            The three remaining guards were already in action. One was very badly hurt and was trying to crawl away from the wreckage, while the other two grabbed Signas and tried to hurry him out of the way, but no sooner had they gotten close than the first guard's head turned into a spray of coolant and flying shards of metal—he had been shot. The second guard barely had time to register his comrade's death; the shots were almost instantaneous. It landed right in what passed for his collarbone, sending a spray of hot coolant onto his face. He cursed and tried to staunch the flow, at the same time moving in front of Signas on accident as the Grand Commander tried to get himself moving again. As such, the guard took the bullet meant for Signas as well as the second bullet meant for him. One hit him hard in the back, rupturing several vitals and spinning him around, a big moving fountain of Reploid blood. Then, finally, the second round hit him in the head and killed him. Signas didn't notice just yet; the heavily armored Reploid was moving towards an alley that he sorely hoped was not being used as one of the sniper nests. Two more rounds exploded into the ground where he had been, but other than that, it appeared for the moment that Signas had escaped the initial catastrophe with his life.

            Zero gaped in shock for about half a second before his training took over. He leapt to his feet—twice. It was a double-jump program that he'd installed in himself during the Repliforce war, and it granted him much needed acrobatic abilities. This dandy little maneuver wound up saving him for the moment: another sniper bullet smashed into the ground where he'd been, and the Hunter glanced down in time to see a strange liquid splash onto the pavement instead of the spent bullet…or even if they were using lasers, there should be a hole in the ground! But there wasn't anything, just that weird liquid…

            Zero raced across the street, passing the burning vehicles and nearly got himself killed by jumping at the wrong time over what he'd deemed to be a pile of scrap—in fact, it was Signas's fourth guard, who was still trying to crawl to safety. Some Maverick had finally taken notice of him and sent a bullet towards his head. Zero almost took it for him, but missed by a hair, though he felt the sudden heat as the bullet whizzed by his face. He snapped his head around just in time to see the final guard lose his computerized brains. 

            "What in the _hell_?!" Signas found himself shouting almost involuntarily. He wasn't even shaking, Zero saw when he joined him in the alley, which was commonplace in anyone who had just experienced a life-threatening situation. Probably the shock just hadn't worn off yet, Zero thought.

            Zero took a second to think. They weren't all that far from Alden Base. If there were an attack underway, then they'd need reinforcements sometime, right? And he'd call the Hunter station, too. Probably best to do that first, he decided, since they were closer.

            "SC-3 Maverick Hunters," Zero barked into his wrist radio once a connection was made. "This is Commander Zero here with Commander Signas near the…" He checked. "The Thomas Light Library. Repeat, the Light Library. We are under attack, repeat, under attack!"

            "I hear you, Zero," an unfamiliar voice answered. "What's going on?"

            They didn't have a chance to respond before another bazooka shell hit the ground at the entrance to the alley, sending a spray of shrapnel into their sanctuary. Zero instinctively threw himself in front of his commander, noting it when a sharp pain started in his lower leg. He briefly examined the shrapnel wound—nothing serious, it had barely penetrated the armor.

            "Guard patrol is dead, Signas and I are under sniper fire. Someone's out there with an RPG, too. Get somebody out here fast, man!"

            "Already done," the voice responded. "Hang in there, we're sending a unit to your position!"

            "Roger!" Zero switched channels. "Hey, this is Commander Zero! Put me through to Colonel Jones _right now_! Yes, dammit, this is an emergency! You think I'm shouting for my health?! Get a move on, asshole!" Probably it wasn't wise to smart off to the poor bastard charged with maintaining radio communications at Alden Base, Zero decided, but he needed a target for his anger and this was it.

            "Settle down," Signas ordered, with remarkable calm.

            "Sir! We've got to get you out of here."

            "We've _both _got to get out of here! But we can't do it running around like chickens with our heads cut off, can we?"

            Zero blinked. "Actually, sir, that just might work. Nothing pisses off a sniper like an enemy who doesn't follow a set pattern in their movement."

            Signas took a moment to register that idea. "Quick. There are other alleys here. Let's go, and for god's sake steer clear of the streets!"

            They never had a chance to implement that particular plan.

____________________

            Fang leapt from the library rooftop with a natural ease. He hit the ground smoothly, his shock absorbers making sure that his legs didn't give way, and sprinted towards the scene of flames unfolding before him. Five other Mavericks touched down near Fang, all of them moving into position with their innate weapons—the sniper rifles were back on the rooftops. They were useless now except to Loader, who merely hopped carefully across rooftops, hoping to get closer to the alley where Zero was hiding.

            Kismet didn't come down right away either. She spent time reloading her RPG and sent another rocket flying into the ground near the alley, perhaps spraying its inhabitants with shrapnel. Then, she used an approach similar to Loader's: she leapt across rooftops after dropping her RPG and eventually arrived at the building overlooking the alley. The white tiger drew a long, diamond saber and leapt down into the alley with a feral roar. Fang entered the area shortly afterwards.

____________________

            Zero heard Kismet before she got close enough to do any damage. He glanced up at the descending tiger and his lightsaber came to life in his hands. Rather than ducking out of the way he double-jumped, meeting his surprised enemy in midair while in the middle of a spin. His legs snapped out into her chest and propelled her away from him. She landed hard on the ground just as another Reploid came in from the other end of the alley—the one not near the flaming wreckage. He was a humanoid, and he immediately began firing an arm cannon at the Hunter in the air. The orders were, after all, to take Zero alive…they didn't stipulate anything about him being "unharmed".

            The shots weren't well aimed, however, and Zero landed unhurt, though he was a bit startled. More footsteps were coming, and there were already two Mavericks inside the alley with the two Hunters.

            Signas made eye contact with the Maverick who had just shot at Zero. The enemy turned toward Signas, the one marked for death. Even before Zero hit the ground, though, Signas did something that the crimson Hunter had not expected: the Grand Commander drew a big, powerful pistol from his belt holster and shot the Maverick through the chest with such fluidity and precision that indicated a lifetime of practice. In fact, they both knew, this was the first real fight Signas had ever been in.

            The Maverick—what a poor, dumb, startled bastard he'd been in his final moments!—fell dead and Signas spun on his heel to apply the same quick death to Kismet. The tigress, however, was already back on her nimble feet, and she was being joined by several other Mavericks. Zero knew that they wouldn't get anywhere just by waiting for the enemy to come to them, so he did what he'd done countless times in the past: he charged headfirst into a situation where he was hopelessly outnumbered, swinging his saber like a madman. It was time for some skills to show, he decided.

            Fang growled and leapt at Zero, swiping his claws at the Hunter's chest.

            "Ryuenjin!" Zero shouted, and leapt into the air. His sword became a pillar of fire that seared deep into Fang's body, dropping the panther on the ground and filling the air with the smell of burnt fur.

            "Shippuga!" Zero shouted again as he came down, and his sword elongated as he somersaulted in midair. He decapitated another Maverick this way, and immediately jumped back into the air, dodging a burst of plasma from another humanoid. "Hienkyaku," he said under his breath as turbo thrusters in his legs flared to life and sent him screaming through the air like a humanoid jet. His sword lashed out and took the arm off the Maverick who'd fired that last shot. Another swing and he was dead.

            Signas hadn't just stood there. Kismet had charged him head on, leaping over his head as he'd fired another shot. The tigress landed behind the Grand Commander, who turned too slowly. Her clawed foot slammed into his chest and sent him staggering backwards, but the damage was minimal. Signas's armor was too thick for her to pierce.

            Of course, that also meant that he was slow as a turtle, he knew. He'd never win a close quarters battle, so he charged out into the fray that Zero was creating. He wound up running into an unalert Maverick, and knowing that it was too close for him to bring up his gun, Signas threw his massive fist into the Maverick's chest, smushing the armor like plastic. Another punch caught the bastard in his face and spun him around and backwards a few steps—Signas raised the pistol now that he had room and sent the death shot into the Maverick's teeth. Three Mavericks were dead, not counting Fang, who was still alive and battle ready, though wounded.

____________________

            Officer Bob Casey had seen the crash from a few streets down and had set down his coffee to go investigate. He had a large hovercycle, one with reinforced armor. It didn't go as fast as some of the other models, but it kept up with cars, and that was fine for everyone except daredevils.

            The police officer had just been getting onto his bike when the first RPG shell hit the crash site, and he'd immediately radioed in for help. Not satisfied with just standing around, especially when he saw the second shell go off, he'd started to ride forward towards the site to look for survivors. Times like now, people needed help.

            Casey had his service revolver—which fired lasers—out and ready as he approached the area…which was good, he soon realized, because there were people around here, and they were running around and fighting each other. He recognized one of them, of course: it was Zero, one of Casey's personal heroes. Anyone who fought the Mavericks earned Casey's respect, which made sense, since Casey was a human. Zero, however, was one of the best of the best, and there wasn't a cop in Sub-City 3 who wouldn't hesitate to help him out.

            Bob Casey didn't quite know what to do, though. He spied a Maverick about to skewer Zero from behind with his claws. The culprit seemed to be a panther Reploid with burn wounds. There was another man who was pulling his weight, too…it looked like a Hunter general…Jesus, was that _Signas_? Casey didn't know Signas that well, since he mostly paid attention only to the soldiers, not the generals. He did know that Reploid from somewhere, though, and he knew that Signas led the Hunter organization with Dr. Cain, so whatever this was, it was big.

            Casey decided on his course of action in the next second. It was very good, especially considering that Casey had never experienced military training. The police officer rode his hovercycle directly toward the cluster of fighting Reploids. Zero saw him and in that split second they identified each other as allies. Zero leapt to the side just as the panther Reploid was about to make his move. Officer Casey extended his revolver and squeezed the trigger four times in rapid succession. It was overkill, as all the shots hit, but Casey hadn't ever been trained on conservation of ammunition. All he knew was that he had an enemy to kill, and he wanted to make damned sure that the enemy died!

____________________

            The pain surprised Fang. He was even more surprised by the fact that he was coughing up blood. Finally, the greatest surprise was that he was actually dying. He knew it because he was finally paying attention to his autorepair systems, which were no match for these new wounds. What the hell! He'd joined this mission to prove himself, not to die! And at the hands of a _human_! Just a police officer, a grunt, nothing more! What a horrible way to die!

            The last thing Fang did was make eye contact with Kismet. She watched her friend's life abandon him right before her eyes, and seconds later she leapt out of the way of a hovercycle speeding through the cluster of combatants. She fixed the human riding it with a piercing glare, and the tigress sprang off after her prey.

____________________

            Officer Casey rode the adrenaline as well as he rode his hovercycle. He turned it to go back in for another pass. He was turning too slowly, though he didn't know it. Zero met his eyes and flashed him a grin that soon changed to something else entirely.

            Casey spied the tiger approaching and revved his bike to the top gear, flying directly towards her while firing his revolver. She merely leapt over his head as he fired his last shot, expending his laser cartridge.

            _Damn! _He ejected the cartridge and fumbled inside his pants for a new one. All the while he was moving his bike around, and kept clear of the battle zone. People were shooting at him now, but he was doing a good job of dodging their fire, he thought.

            Finally! He loaded the new magazine and turned the bike, again too slowly. He didn't really know what to do next. Casey could go in for another pass, but they would expect that now. Instead, he decided to help pick them off from here.

            A small yet sharp blade buried itself in Casey's right arm, causing the officer to shriek in pain. Whatever it was had bit even into his bone, and he moved his left arm—his gun arm—to remove the object causing the pain. Unfortunately, he couldn't do this with a gun in his hand, as Kismet had known when she'd thrown the blade. Casey looked back and saw the tigress approaching, her diamond blade drawn and aimed right at him. Casey stopped his bike, not wanting to drive one handed. That was his last coherent thought.

            He squeezed off laser rounds one by one, missing every time. He was frantic with fear and pain, and his aim was off. Kismet covered the distance easily and pounced. She tackled Casey off his bike and spilled the police officer onto the ground. The man's revolver flew from his hand and landed out of his range. It was useless to him now.

            Bob Casey didn't rightly know what had hit him. Well, he did, but it never had a chance to fully register. There was that brief stunned moment of nothingness, and then metal claws sliced into his belly as the full weight of the white tiger came down upon him. He tried to scream, but the blood caught in his throat. Kismet twitched her feet, ripping through internal organs and causing the man extreme pain, and then clamped her jaws around Casey's neck and ended his life that way. One horrific death for another, she thought as she got to her feet and licked the blood off her lips. Fang had been avenged.

____________________

            Signas had seen Casey die, and the sight revolted him. The hesitation it created was enough time for a razor sharp boomerang to slam into his left foot, biting through the armor but not succeeding in taking off his leg. Signas let out a startled cry, attracting the attention of another humanoid Maverick who grinned evilly and aimed his arm cannon at Signas's head.

            Zero impaled him from behind and hoisted the body over his shoulders, throwing his sword out at the Mavericks behind him. The body slid off the weapon and knocked over the attackers like bowling pins, and Zero rushed to Signas's side.

            "I'm gonna be a clumsy walker," Signas announced, somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry, Zero!"

            Zero didn't answer. Instead, he used the brief seconds he'd gained by knocking over the Mavericks to scan the area and form a new plan. "Boss! Come on!" He didn't even explain himself as he helped Signas start moving towards Casey's hovercycle. Neither of them noticed the boomerang that flew up from the ground in response to a magnetic pulse, and so neither wondered where it had come from.

            Kismet leapt into action around the same time Zero got Signas to the bike. The crimson Hunter rushed at her, leaving Signas to board the bike himself, and stopped at the last minute as though hesitating. Kismet grinned and raised her sword. Suddenly, though, Zero shot his sword arm forward and cried "Rajingeki!" The blade of the saber turned into a lance of electricity, and impaled the sadistic white tiger as she approached. Zero had attacked too soon, though. She recoiled and staggered backwards and away…had he waited just a little more he would have gone through her generator.

            Signas reactivated the hovercycle and started on the road to the Hunter station, but he immediately veered onto a side road. He felt extremely opportunistic about taking the bike of a man who'd died fighting to help him, but he had to get out of there one way or another. He glanced back to see that Zero was rushing towards the hovercycle he'd been thrown off of earlier.

            _And where the hell were their damned reinforcements?!_

____________________

            Kim Stetson gasped in horror. She and Louis had been one of the many to approach and view the accident scene, but when things had gotten hairy the pedestrians had gotten out of hand and run for their lives.

            Louis grabbed his girlfriend and shoved her back down the sidewalk to her apartment. They'd been far down the road to the library when it had happened, and neither of them liked being out in the open as long as they had been. It was too easy to die that way, especially if this were a Maverick attack.

            But they already had been noticed. Loader had given up on getting close enough for a shot, and had changed tactics: instead, he would move backwards to try and make his field of vision larger. He leveled his sniper targets on Zero as the Hunter raced to his bike. The cricket fired just as Zero paused, but the extra distance Loader had placed between himself and his target zone meant that it took longer for the rounds to reach their destination. It wasn't more than half a second, but it was enough for that lucky bastard! The tranquilizer bullet exploded on the ground near Zero's foot, startling him again with that strange liquid.

            Loader cursed and looked up from the sniper scope in time to see two humans walking down the sidewalk. They were alone, having not been able to fall into line with the other groups of pedestrians. An idea ferreted its way into Loader's mind. Things seemed to be going badly, so…what the hell?

            "Boss," the cricket chirped into his radio, "I have an idea."

____________________

            "Fall back!" Boomer Kuwangner's voice rasped into his cohort's ears. "Retreat!"

            Zero activated his hovercycle and prepared to zoom after Signas when he wondered what was going on. Kismet and the surviving humanoid were making a break for it. Each threw Zero a sneer as they passed. They were speedy, and they were using short-range warp technology to cover distance.

            Just as Zero was about to follow Signas, a familiar and hated figure fell from the sky and landed on his spindly feet on the road in the direction where Kismet had escaped. Boomer Kuwangner laughed as loudly and maniacally as he could and removed the boomerang from his head. He threw it towards Zero as the Hunter was preparing to step off the hovercycle and do battle with the Maverick. The weapon tangled Zero's feet and spilled him off his ride. Zero cracked his chin hard on the pavement, but didn't let the stars that cluttered his head stop him from leaping immediately to his feet. Half a second later, another "wet bullet" hit the ground where he had been. What the hell was up with that! He should have been tipped off right away, but he wasn't. His rage was too much already, and Zero was notorious for giving in to his rage.

            Boomer knew that, and placed his hands on his hips as the boomerang came back and replaced itself in his head. He struck a mocking pose and laughed again at Zero.

            "Not bad," Kuwangner rasped just loudly enough for Zero to hear him. "You proved yourself once more, Zero. Even if you did have to kill four of your own people to do it." What he meant, of course, was that Zero had caused the whole thing by screwing up and causing the car crash. In fact, by causing the crash Zero had saved Signas's life, since the Grand Commander would never have survived had his car gone any further. But Zero didn't know that, nor would he ever ask. The insult struck him in his soul, and he immediately hopped back on his hovercycle and started to speed towards Boomer.

            The stag beetle used his warping capabilities to vanish and reappear on Zero's right. He warped again as Zero turned, confusing the Hunter and angering him further.

            "What's the matter?" Kuwangner chided as he reappeared in his original position. "Can't catch a measly bug like me? Some champion. Anyway, the next time we meet, you won't be so fortunate. One time or another, your luck will dry up! Until then…" He motioned to the corpses of the four guards, who lay near the still-flaming wreckages of two vehicles. "You just can't seem to protect any of your comrades. As I'm sure a certain little lady would tell us..." He began a sprint down the road.

            A killing rage took Zero and the Hunter sped off in pursuit of the Maverick. That last reference had been aimed at Zero's killing of Iris…Boomer had struck far too close to home for Zero to not pursue him. Kuwangner vanished before long, reappearing on top of a building. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, occasionally throwing his boomerang down for Zero to dodge, and also to make sure that the Hunter didn't lose him. At the same time, Loader was crossing rooftops too, and two Mavericks below him were hauling special cargo.

            Zero dodged the Boomerang Cutter and swerved his bike to the right. He converted his right arm into a cannon—something he rarely if ever did anymore, considering the fact that his arm units couldn't support a powerful projectile weapon while supplying power for all of Zero's sword techniques—and fired shot after shot at the Maverick who was dancing around on the rooftops.

            Unfortunately, in all his rage Zero forgot that boomerangs have a tendency of coming back.

            The cutter sliced through the energen fuel compartment of the stationary hovercycle and ignited it. The explosion threw Zero from its seat and reduced much of the bike to useless scrap. Boomer waited for his weapon to come back to him. He had to use the magnetic functions in his head to pry it from the bike's wreckage. Zero was on his feet right away. He was a demon in battle, especially when enraged. It would take more than that explosion to bring him down, though that one damned shot from Loader would do it. For that, Zero needed to hesitate. And for _that_, Loader had arranged the perfect scenario. Boomer leapt off the roof.

            The next thing Zero heard was a scream. He spun around, whipped out his lightsaber, and prepared for action, but what he saw stopped him cold. Boomer Kuwangner had just touched down, but his boomerang was in his hand and pressed to the throat of a young human woman, whom he held with his spindly yet strong left arm.

            "Well now, Zero," Kuwangner said, and his tone implied a smug grin. "Isn't this an interesting situation?"

            "_Kim!_" Another voice. Zero glanced to the right and saw a young human male being restrained by the humanoid Maverick that had escaped earlier. Kismet the white tiger was there too, though she was mainly nursing the sword wound that Zero's thunder attack had given her and fixing her former attacker with a poisonous glare.

            For her part, Kim Stetson didn't quite understand how all this could be happening. She'd been running back to her apartment with Louis when a strange cricket Reploid had fallen from the roof above them. It had grabbed Kim and leapt back up the roof, leaving her up there paralyzed with fear. Seconds later it had brought Louis up in the same way. Neither of them had been thinking coherently enough to resist, and had just sat there until two more Mavericks entered the area. The cricket had brought them down, and now Louis was being held at gunpoint and she had a blade pressed to her throat…it was even drawing blood, she realized! _Oh God, oh God, don't let me die, don't let me die…!!!_

            Zero's rage melted like an ice cream sundae in Hell. He saw the situation and realized that there wasn't much he could do about it. The female was trembling in abject terror, and her boyfriend didn't seem to be doing much better. Zero sympathized. He, too, had seen a woman he cared about die before him. But what did that mean? Was she already dead? No!

            "What the hell do you want from me?" Zero asked, somewhat perplexed. He was standing there doing nothing while one of the other two Mavericks could just pull out a gun and shoot him to death. That seemed the only reasonable thing. What were they waiting for?

            "It's very simple," Boomer hissed, almost seductively. "I'll let this one go with her life…all I ask from you is that you…hold still."

            That surprised Zero enough to make him hesitate in full for five whole seconds. "What the hell…?"

            "Yes," Boomer's eyes exploded with sadistic glee. "Just maybe one more second."

            And then it came. It felt like a water balloon full of boiling hot water had splattered on the back of his right shoulder. He immediately looked at the wound, and was immediately chilled to his steel bones; there was a strange liquid around the entrance point. Strangely enough, his damage receptors reported, there was no foreign object, meaning bullet, inside of him. Then what…?

            First it was nausea, then wooziness, and then he just fell over. The chemicals interfered with the transfer of electrical rhythms inside his body, meaning that everything slowed up drastically, producing an effect similar to sleep. This sleep, however, was much deeper and he couldn't wake up any time soon.

            His eyes were still working, though they were cloudy. Zero fought the encroaching darkness with all his might, though he knew it was futile. Whatever they'd shot him with was taking over. Then came the screams. The first one was feminine and it ended abruptly…and somewhat wetly. Horror flooded Zero's mind as he looked up to see a spray of blood erupt from Kuwangner's prisoner. Her scream remained in his mind long after it had ended, and mingled with the scream of the man who'd called out her name earlier, and mingled perhaps with one of Zero's own. He wasn't quite sure.

            The male voice was full of despair and the female's was of tragedy, a flame gone out before its time. Even after the darkness enveloped Zero and his systems threw him into unconsciousness, the screams remained, and took on new personas, replaying a scene that had haunted Zero night after night since the Repliforce War ended. The man crying in despair was him, and the extinguished flame was Iris.

            The sounds never ceased, and thus began the longest nightmare of Zero's life.

____________________

            Boomer Kuwangner let Stetson's body drop to the ground. He started to clean off his boomerang, but thought better of it, replacing it on his head. He nodded to his comrades.

            The Maverick holding Louis Simons pressed a pistol to the back of the young man's head and fired. It was almost a mercy. The kid's soul had just been thoroughly destroyed by the sight of his lover dying before his eyes. The humanoid let his baggage fall to the ground without even flinching.

            Kismet, however, had balked at the sight of the deaths. For all her cruelty in destroying Casey, she'd expected Kuwangner to keep his word to Zero.

            "Why are you upset, my dear…?" the eerie Maverick asked coldly. "They were humans…inferiors! They would have died before long anyway. Besides," he said with a careless shrug, "it's their kind that killed our friends back there. You know what will happen to Fang? They'll toss his body on the scrap heaps and let it rust. That's all there is for our people. Eternal slumber, at least until we're recycled and used to store canned foods!" The Maverick would have spat if he had the ability. He turned to acknowledge Loader, who had leapt down from the nearby rooftop that he'd used as his perch while sniping Zero. "Good shot, my comrade."

            "It was easy, what with him standing still like that." Loader crept up to Zero's still form and smashed one of his powerful legs into the Hunter's chest. Then again, in his stomach. Again, and again, and again, until he was finally done. Kuwangner didn't stop him. Maybe Zero could feel it, he reasoned. He deserved to suffer, the Maverick reasoned. Most of Kuwangner's men were dead because of him.

            "We're wasting time," Kismet observed as the wail of sirens became notable.

            Kuwangner nodded and looked to the humanoid Maverick. He picked up Zero's body with Loader's help, and Kuwangner bent over. He locked his cutter around Zero's waist, using only enough pressure to hold the Hunter steady. This was the Dead Lift, one of Kuwangner's better assets. Boomer hoisted Zero up and pressed a few buttons on his communicator. Seconds later he vanished. Kismet, Loader, and the other Maverick did the same, leaving the streets of Sub-City 3 empty except for the flaming remains of a car, a van, a hovercycle, and the bodies of four guards and two young humans who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.


	28. Mobilization

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Mobilization**

            Gate took one final look at the scene of the crime, keeping up the perpetual frown that had lined his face for the past hour. An ambulance had finally been given permission to remove the bodies of Kim Stetson and Louis Simons from the scene. Gate had taken charge of the investigation immediately, being as he was already in Sub-City 3 when it happened, and he'd ordered that the scene be undisturbed until he had a chance to draw conclusions.

            It hadn't taken long at all. Several witnesses explained with consistent detail the capture of Maverick Hunter Zero and the murders of the young humans. Other motorists had seen the attack on Signas's car, and it was easy to surmise what Officer Casey had died doing. Signas had just returned to Megacity 5 via the transporter in the Hunter Station and now Gate was turning over the investigation to the local Hunter commander.

            _So, Commander Zero is missing…presumably in Maverick hands._ Gate didn't like that scenario. Zero was a powerhouse, a Reploid almost too strong for his own good. He'd proven his inability to handle his own strength on a number of occasions, and he'd lost control of his emotions too often to be truly reliable. He wasn't like X at all, Gate thought. X was calm and collected, a pacifist, just like Gate. He hated fighting, unlike Zero, who reportedly relished it. Enjoying combat, Gate thought, was merely the first step on the long road to insanity. Perhaps it was that weakness in Zero that enticed Sigma so much. After all, this wasn't the first time Zero had been held captive by the Mavericks, if Gate's memory served him correctly. That first time, when the X-Hunters had revived him, they'd also reprogrammed him to be a Maverick. Supposedly. Even Gate had never gotten the true details of that incident. Some said that Zero had indeed gone Maverick, but he'd fought off the effects after a quick battle with X. Other reports said that Zero escaped before Sigma had a chance to reprogram him, so the Maverick King had built a Clone Zero and intended to use it to kill X, but the real Zero returned and took it out before it had the chance. Whatever the case, Gate had been interested in Zero's past for a long time, and not just the incidents at the end of the second uprising.

            When Sigma still led the Maverick Hunters, he went on a mission to a nearby desert lab. By the time that mission had ended, an entire Hunter unit had been destroyed and Sigma himself had been severely mangled. He'd never been the same since. Gate had followed up on that incident and learned that several locals noted the existence of a "Devil" in red. Shortly after, Gate had learned, Zero joined up with the Maverick Hunters. It wasn't hard to connect the crimson Hunter with the red Devil, and Zero had thrashed Sigma good in the fourth uprising, proving that he would certainly have been capable of doing it that first time.

            But what did that mean? Had Zero really been a Maverick, even before the first uprising? It was something Gate was deathly curious about, even though he'd never dare to voice his opinions publicly. The Zero he knew from current reports and occasional meetings such as the one today in City Hall was not a bad guy. He and Gate had differences in opinion, policy, and ideals, but Gate could not quite bring himself to hate Zero.

            However, that did not stop him from fearing him. Zero's mind had been somewhat…troubled, especially after the fourth uprising. Gate knew all about Iris and Colonel, and he had even heard rumors from insiders that Zero was experiencing strange dreams. It wasn't so much that Gate didn't trust the Hunter. If anything, Zero needed help, not elimination. He'd done too much good to merit execution, even if Sigma did manage to get to him…provided he could be turned back to normal. Gate had decided to keep tabs on Zero, monitoring him to make sure he didn't lose control of himself over something.

            That being said, it was easy to infer why Gate was so worried about Zero being back in Maverick hands. They'd obviously wanted him alive—witnesses had seen Zero drop after a mere shoulder wound, and while those could be bad, they were almost never fatal for a Reploid. Even with an expert angle it would have been too difficult to hit his generator. So, they'd obviously taken him alive, and on purpose. Gate could only surmise one purpose for that.

            The air above the scientist's head suddenly grew very hot. Gate looked up and watched as a Reploid phoenix, complete with a fiery aura around its wings, descended from the sky. The phoenix had been scouting the rooftops of Sub-City 3, searching for any remaining snipers. Finding none, he touched down next to his boss, folding his wings neatly behind his back before making his report.

            "We in the clear?" Gate asked his associate.

            "No pricks left in the area," Blaze Heatnix responded. "Not that I can see, anyway, and if I can't find 'em, nobody will."

            Gate allowed him that. Blaze Heatnix was indeed a stellar observer. He could pick out life forms like none other. It was a shame that he stuck out like a sore thumb, else he'd have made an outstanding aerial spy.

            "So what's the beef with the Hunters?" Heatnix asked, curious.

            "It seems that our friend Zero was captured."

            The phoenix blinked. "How'd he let that happen?"

            Gate shrugged. "I imagine it was a tranquilizer dart. According to the locals, he hesitated right here when Boomer Kuwangner held that girl hostage. Zero held nice and still until the trank bullet hit. Didn't stop the son of a bitch from killing the hostages, though," Gate added with venom.

            Heatnix glowered, which was always an interesting thing, since the flames his armor gave off glowed brighter. "Barbarians, every last one of them! They can't even fight man-to-man anymore. The hell is this world coming to when you can't even have a duel anymore without being shot in the back?"

            Gate didn't answer. Blaze Heatnix was a dedicated duelist…he sparred often with his fellow Investigators. He would probably never understand the shift in Maverick policy…well, he might understand it, Gate allowed, but he'd never come to respect it.

            The scientist walked to the spot where Kim Stetson's blood was still splattered all over the pavement. He looked at the grisly scene with a blank face, letting his loathing for the Mavericks grow within him. Heatnix had it right: they were all barbarians, especially these madmen with the Buzzbombs. They were ready to kill hundreds of people at once, just to urge other Mavericks around the globe to begin another pointless war. It would be worse than that, Gate realized. These nuclear terrorists would eliminate the Hunter presence in Megacity 5, one of the most important cities in the Megacity System. The Mavericks would spread out through the city, probably overpowering the Megacity Army. From there, the economy of Megacity 5 would stagger, and the entire System would feel the blow. In effect, one properly aimed Buzzbomb would rearrange the state of the world. They must never let that happen, Gate thought with firm certainty. In order to prevent that, they had to deny the Mavericks any assets, including backup bases. Gate knew just what to do about that.

            "We're done here," the scientist said, turning back to the phoenix. "I need you back at our base as soon as possible, and bring Scarabich and Wolfang with you. I have a new mission for you."

            Heatnix threw a beaky grin at his commander. Whatever mission Gate had in mind probably involved killing Mavericks, and Heatnix was in a killing mood at the moment. "Sure thing, boss. I'll round 'em up for ya. Be home in a jiffy!"

            Gate nodded and his associate lifted off. That, too, was always interesting to watch, since the air around the phoenix seemed to glow as he flew through it. An interesting Reploid, that Blaze Heatnix. A bit of a hothead, sans pun, but reliable and efficient nonetheless.

            Satisfied, the scientist turned his back on the scene of the murders and walked back towards the wreckage of the van and the car, where most of the other spectators were. He would check out that UNDINE thing for Signas as soon as possible, he decided. In the meantime, he'd tell Commander Yammark to start plotting an attack. Gate would work things out with the Brazilian military…he didn't think they'd object to what Gate had in mind.

            One way or another, Gate decided, the Mavericks would pay for this, and even though his personal efforts might not be as important as those of others, it would still leave an irreparable dent in the enemy's war machine.

____________________

            By late noon, news of the events in Sub-City 3 was common knowledge. Hunter HQ bustled with activity as units intensified training, messengers ran to and fro with new information, and commanders gathered to plan their next move. Throughout the entire facility there was a common sentiment: anger. Two of their most respected figures had been attacked and nearly killed, and one had been taken prisoner. The Hunters were more of a clannish bunch than most people suspected, and they always fought hard to bring one of their men back from behind enemy lines. They'd fight doubly hard this time, considering the captive Hunter was Zero.

            Mega Man X hadn't taken the news well. It wasn't that he was afraid for Zero—Zero was quite capable of handling himself. To this date, no Maverick had ever been able to control him, Sigma included, and though X's heart went out to his friend, he knew deep down that Zero would not submit easily to anything he did not deem worthy of submitting to, which amounted to pretty much everything.

            No, X was more worried about the fact that they'd lost one of their best soldiers, and the fact that the Mavericks weren't afraid to take risks anymore. That more or less meant that they were ready for their attack, and that meant that the Hunters had to scramble in order to meet that state of readiness.

            Signas had returned to Hunter HQ around noon. His leg had been fixed up, and now it was a matter of waiting for his nanobots to repair the damage in full. However, he hadn't waited long at all before calling all available commanders and chiefs to the same meeting room where Colonel Kitao had broken the news about the Buzzbombs, and so here X was now. The only difference, he noted sadly, was that the chair next to him was empty this time.

            Signas limped to his seat with the help of one of his assistance. Boomer Kuwangner's Boomerang Cutter had done a number on that leg of his, X saw. A few more inches and the leg would even be there anymore. However, give or take a few days, and the damage would be negligible. That was the beauty of being a Reploid, X thought. The healing process was far faster for them than it was with a human.

            Signas looked up and down the table, spotting X, Zion, Caligula, Douglas, Tiberius, Archer, Mason, Damia, Taggart, and Zegmann. He got right to the heart of the matter. "As you by now know, Zero and I were attacked on our way home. Four of our comrades are dead, as well as three humans. One was a police officer who saved both my life and Zero's only to be gutted like a pig afterwards. I'm told he'll be given a hero's funeral. The other two were college students that Boomer Kuwangner held hostage in order to cause Zero to freeze. He all but decapitated one when he was done with her, and had the other one murdered as well." Everyone at the table felt something inside them stir. Signas spoke with the deadly calm that gave them only one option: see the Mavericks for what they were and show them no mercy when you meet them. After that summary, no one present would even think of doing otherwise.

            "In addition," Signas went on in a tired voice, "Zero was taken captive. We do not believe that they killed him back there…all reports indicate otherwise. So, we have to assume that he is still alive, and in Maverick custody.

            "Before we proceed any further, let me elaborate on the day's other events. Zero met with Colonel Tony Jones of Alden Base, and we will be receiving a platoon of ride armors and munitions. They will be here by tomorrow, if Jones doesn't slack. Also, Zero learned that someone has stolen a new ride armor type. It's called the X74 Marauder, and it's a real monster." Signas looked hard at each face at the table. "Commanders, make sure your units know about this thing. When we attack Seraph Castle, there's no telling when that thing might show up. Watch your backs.

            "In the meantime, I met with the Megacity Council. All our requests have been granted, and we should be getting the things we need in a day. They will hurry, especially after what happened today."

            "What about Gate?" Caligula asked.

            Signas nodded. "He agreed to help us out. Also, one of his people in Brazil discovered a Maverick base under construction. Split Mushroom is in command. Gate believes that this base is the one the Mavericks plan to retreat to after they fire the Buzzbombs. Gate's agent in Brazil is going to mount an attack with the help of their army."

            "So we have roughly two days to mobilize," X summarized. "What should our priorities be during that time?"

            Signas considered his response. He knew full well that X knew the answer to his own question. He'd just asked it for the benefit of the other newer commanders in the room. "No further training will be of any use. Start having your units move supplies and equipment. After two days, we have to start moving. We can teleport most of our forces to a certain point, but our larger pieces of artillery will have to be moved the old fashioned way. If we start early, we can be in attack position by nightfall."

            "That's too late," Zegmann pointed out. "They'll see us coming long before that."

            "That's the best we can do," Signas said without emotion. "Unless, of course, we get the support we need faster."

            There wasn't much left to discuss. X left the hall ten minutes later and found himself wondering what he was supposed to do now. Yes, there was equipment to be moved and readied, but there were also plans to finalize. X caught Douglas on his way out of the meeting hall.

            "Yeah?" the mechanic asked.

            "We gotta be ready to move long before Signas said we would," X pointed out. "What do you need done that will allow a faster departure time."

            Douglas took a deep breath and thought hard. "I don't rightly know. Our mobile units, ride armors and the like, were ready yesterday, but if we're gonna be getting new things…well, if you know any gearheads, send them to my garage. It'll make servicing and checking the new equipment faster."

            X nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

            Douglas looked uncomfortable. Then, "Zero'll be able to handle himself, you think?"

            X let out a long breath and nodded. "He's been in this situation before. He'll manage until we can bust him out."

            Douglas absorbed this. "What if the bad guys take him on a trip to Brazil?"

            That earned him a blink; X hadn't thought of that. "Then I guess Gate's agents will have to know what not to shoot at." It was hardly satisfying, but it was the best he could come up with.

            Douglas nodded and they parted ways. X headed back to the rec room specifically reserved for officers of the 17th Unit, where he found his sergeants right where he expected them to be: Jasper was lounging in his own recliner; Shadin, Alia and Scylla occupied the small couch; Lariat sat cross-legged on the floor, looking like the big lounging beast that he was. All of them straightened up when X entered the room. Over the years they'd learned that X was a prime source of information, as he did not put much priority on the words "top secret". This meeting hadn't been top secret, but everyone wanted to know what had happened anyway.

            "Somethin' going down, chief?" Jasper asked for them all.

            "We move the day after tomorrow."

            "That's nothing new," X's second in command pointed out.

            X shook his head. "No, it's not, but it's official now at least. We'll all pound Seraph Castle at once, securing or destroying the Buzzbombs as we find them." All of his sergeants knew, of course, about the nuclear threat even though Signas wanted to keep it on the down low. X figured that if he couldn't trust these five, he couldn't rightly trust anyone. "Our training is over, people. Now it's a matter of getting things ready to move as soon as possible."

            They absorbed this. More than one of them clearly wanted to ask another question, but no one was breaking the silence. Finally it was Lariat who spoke up. "What about Zero's unit?"

            X let out a sigh. "They'll be coming along, you can rest assured of that. I haven't seen them yet, but you can bet they want nothing more than to bust their commander out of there."

            "So," Shadin asked, "you believe Zero's still alive…?"

            A half smile formed on X's lips. "He's alive, all right. Bloody stupid move on the Mavericks' part, but I'm not complaining. He's alive, and knowing him he'll bust out on his own before we even get there. Who knows? Maybe he'll even take care of our objectives for us."

            They all smiled at that, though wistfully. It was a nice thing to hope for, but they all knew that the odds of one Hunter battling out of a fortress full of Mavericks carried dim odds for survival.

            "All right," Scylla said, getting down to business. "What do you need us to do?"

            X took the cue and went through the plan he'd formed in his head on the way here. It wasn't much of a plan, but he had to have something to tell to his sergeants, didn't he? "Do the final equipment checks for our unit today. Don't wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll need the whole unit to help Douglas service our new machinery. Also, you guys probably know the new recruits of Unit 17 better than I do. If you know of any prospective ride armor stars…get them some last minute training and have them pick a model they like to work with." One of the good things about being in the elite 17th was that you got first pickings of pretty much everything.

            Jasper nodded and stood. "That's a rog, sir. By the way, your message box is nice and full. Looks like you got a night of reading to do."

            "Lovely." Another element of being in Unit 17, especially being the _leader_, meant that there was always a motherload of paperwork to sort through. X shook his head in wonderment. How did people expect him to get anything done when he had to read through countless reports? Zero had a tendency to actually shred report clusters with his saber right before a mission started, but X had never been able to bring himself to do that, for fear of destroying some important tidbit of information. It helped that he was a speed-reader; else he'd never get a wink of sleep.

            As Shadin, Scylla, Jasper, and Lariat got to their feet and shuffled off to perform their various duties, Alia, who had been silent this whole time, stood and walked towards her commander. Her armor was no longer as extensive, and had been reduced to a simple breastplate. This only made sense, as the wounds she'd taken in the quarry meant that she'd probably no longer be any good in a fight. She'd also cut her blonde hair very short, signifying a change in…something. X wasn't sure what, though he suspected he was about to find out.

            "Commander."

            "Alia." He nodded. "Something I need to hear?"

            "As you know," she said somewhat regretfully, "I'm no longer able to fight in battles. So, I'm not going to be going with you when you leave for Seraph Castle."

            This was not a surprise, though X did pretend to mull it over. "Is this a resignation…?"

            "A what?" She blinked in surprise. "No, no! It's just that I've been assigned other duties at the Headquarters."

            "Assigned? By who?"

            "Cain." She placed her hands on her hips and recalled the conversation. "He gave me the option of resigning. I'd considered it…I didn't really want to be a burden to everyone else around here. But then I thought more about it and realized that Hunting was the only thing I'd ever done. I wasn't prepared for anything else."

            "That's a common sentiment," X agreed. "Once a soldier, always a soldier." He regretted the words right away.

            Alia took it in stride. "Well…seeing as I can't be the said soldier anymore, Cain gave me another option. The communication team is in need of a dispatcher with high-level clearance to manage the more important missions. He offered the job to me."

            Well, there was an idea. "I presume you accepted?"

            She nodded cautiously. "I'll have to formally withdraw from the 17th…withdraw, not resign…but I'll be in contact with you for most of your missions. I'll manage missions for both Unit 17 and Unit 0, and whatever else is asked of me." She paused uncomfortably. "So, uh…there it is. I request your leave. I need at least verbal permission to withdraw before I can work on the Seraph Castle mission."

            X had to smile. For as long as he could remember, Alia had been a firebrand of sorts, always saying whatever the hell was on her mind. Shyness was not befitting of her. Yet here she was now, uncomfortable as hell, for once unsure of herself before her leader. That meant that she actually cared what he thought, X realized. The smile died when he realized just how much he'd miss having her around. Like most members of his unit, X had found Alia rather personable and easy to get along with. Her take-charge attitude had also come through for the unit on a number of occasions when there were too many options to consider or infighting was clouding peoples' minds. Even though she hadn't played much of a role in recent events, the unit would feel her loss for sure.

            "You've got my leave, then." He smiled again, this time hoping to convey that he did regret losing her. He wondered if it got across. He had never been much good at conveying the correct emotion. "Guess you're not going all that far away."

            "Just down the hall," she replied with her own grin, relieved that her commander wasn't being an ass about her transferring. Some commanders would do that.

            "Well, don't be afraid to stop by and show your face. You may officially be a member of the communication staff, but as far as I'll be concerned you're still just as much a member of the 17th as you always were."

            "Thanks. Thanks a lot." She regained some of her former confidence. "Guess we've both got some work to do, then?"

            X nodded. "Get to where you're going. Now that I think about it, it'll be useful to have a navigator out there. Maybe we won't have to worry about not knowing the terrain anymore."

            She pursed her lips and shrugged. "I'll do my best. I imagine it can't be that hard, but if it's okay with you…"

            "Do us proud." X grinned and saluted. Alia returned the gesture and left the 17th rec room, heading to a new profession. X hoped it would work for her. She hadn't taken the news well, he remembered. Anyone high up in the 17th Unit had been a Hunter for several years, and given that the oldest of Reploids weren't even twenty years old yet, this fact meant that X's team members knew little other than Hunting. Alia hadn't been sure she could handle the change to something else, despite all her confidence on the field. Still, Cain came through, as he usually did, X thought with a smile. He'd have to check in on the old man, he thought, before they left for Seraph Castle. It was more for him than for Cain, he admitted to himself. X valued the scientist's company, and he feared that when it came time for Cain to retire that that company would become much more limited. Maybe he should head over there now, X thought. There wasn't much else for him to do.

            Then he realized that Cain would probably be busy now, what with these new developments, and that there was indeed something else for X to do now.

            The azure Hunter left the room and walked robotically, for lack of better term, to the nearby lounge used by Unit 0. It wasn't far enough away, X decided as he neared the door. He hadn't had any time to think of something to say. But then, nothing ever came of him pondering his words, so he figured he'd just wing it. After all, he realized as he pushed the door open, he did know what he wanted to say and do after all.

            The scene waiting for X in the Unit 0 rec room was similar to the one he'd just left. The only difference was that Zero's sergeants had all been talking to each other, some of them in less than restrained tones. All of them quieted, however, when they realized who was in the room with them.

            A green Reploid who had been standing near a window turned and looked X in the eye. This was Delates, X remembered. He knew all of Zero's Hunters by name, as their two units often worked together. Delates looked back and forth from soldier to soldier before finally breaking the silence by addressing X. "Sorry, sir. Guess they can't find their tongues."

            "I know the feeling," X responded with a weak smile, breaking the ice. Sergeants working with X and Zero were generally on good-friend terms with both leaders, though a commander was a commander, and it helped when they said the first word.

            "Sorry, sir," a burly orange Reploid said, getting to his feet and nodding X's way. "We're just a little…miffed."

            "That's rather mild, Tyclammel," a tall Reploid armored in black said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're bloodthirsty."

            "All right, Cort, if you want to be morbid about it…" Tyclammel shrugged. "This unit has been insulted."

            X looked from Hunter to Hunter, recalling names and specialties. Zero's "sergeants" were really the unit in general. Unlike X, Zero's unit didn't draw massive amounts of recruits during times of trouble, being as the unit was for special operations only. Delates was both a sniper and an infiltrations specialist. Tyclammel was, if X remembered correctly, a demolitions expert. Cort, the tall, silver haired Reploid in black armor, carried twin magnums around in side holsters that he used to play connect the dots with anything he didn't like. Nearby were Lyon, Riposte, Feldspar, and Seamus. Lyon was a heavy assault specialist who wore white armor under a green "suit". Riposte was an averagely built dark Reploid who did well as a bomb disarmer. Feldspar had a fairly standard humanoid design, and probably took his name from the feldspar stone that sat in the center of his helmet. His skill was in distance attacks like sniping. Seamus had the oddest coloration, a blue coat of armor over a green "suit" and flaming red hair. He was very good at pursuit and capture missions. There were a few other soldiers that were related to Unit 0, but these seven were the key players. No women, X saw with a wry inner smile. Then he stopped. There had been a woman, he remembered. Her name had been Katana. She'd died with Sol in Byte's mine trap in the quarry. _Goddamned Mavericks._

            "We're rather pissed off about it," Tyclammel went on. "That's _our _boss who got nabbed, and _us _who got challenged, even more so than the rest of the Hunter troops." X didn't think so—he was pretty pissed off too—but there would be no arguing with these folks now.

            "When do we leave?" It was Delates. He'd been good friends with both Sol and Katana, X remembered, and Zero was rather well liked by everyone in his unit. Losing three friends simultaneously wouldn't sit well with Delates. He'd want to pay the Mavericks back, and fast.

            "Day after tomorrow," X responded. "How are you guys going about this…?"

            Delates understood what was being asked. He looked back and forth to each unit member and got nods from every one. He looked back to X. "Zero never had an official second in command, but I'm the one with the most experience, so I've been elected the acting commander. Doesn't mean a whole lot, but at least there's a scrap of organization left."

            X nodded. "Zero's plan for this unit was to invade from the west side of Seraph Castle and rendezvous with my unit, which will come in through the east entrance—I know there is no east entrance, but trust me, we'll make one." He looked at each Hunter individually, the words coming to him from personal feelings. "However, Unit 17 has gained a significant amount of new troops in the previous days, and, well…I just wanted to be clear on something."

            "What's that, sir?" Commander Delates asked.

            "I was just gonna say," X went on, "that if any of you thought it would be fun to merge our units, screw the cautious 'side one, side two' infiltration and just bust a huge hole in one wall, pour into Seraph Castle, beat the _shit _out of the Mavericks, and bust Zero the hell out of there, it wouldn't be any problem with me."

            They all blinked. X wasn't one to change plans so late in the game. Finally, Tyclammel spoke up: "You forgot the nukes, sir."

            "Ah. Well we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

            Delates had to smirk. "You want us to babysit your recruits for you, sir?"

            X smirked right back. "I admit I could use some help. If you each took five or so with you and bossed 'em around…well, they'll only be mine until the battle's over. I don't care _that _much about their feelings toward being handled by a rival unit."

            Cort blinked innocently. "Does this signify a change in your feelings toward protocol, sir?"

            X sighed, shaking his head at the Reploid who always asked these incriminating questions. "I'm living under the threat of nuclear attack, my partner's been captured, both our units have taken losses, and all because of these goddamned terrorists in Seraph Castle. Right now, Cort, my only protocol involves the best ways of serving Fried Maverick on the barby." And you knew X meant business when he used Australian slang.

            Delates did another check of his comrades' faces before looking back to X. "Well then, sir…we'll be happy to help you piss in these bastards' eyes." He snapped off a sloppy salute. "Now, uh…you got anything for us to do, or do we have to continue to sit here venting our anger?"

            X smiled. He liked the way this was going. He really did want to take the Mavericks out this time. He was actually looking forward to it, and that was first. Nuclear weapons…what kind of psychos resorted to _that _anymore? "As a matter of fact," he announced, "Douglas could use some help with the big guns. We'll field any other problems as we come to them."

____________________

            Vulcan had heard all the warnings, but until now he hadn't believed things could get so hectic. His training regimen had doubled during the past week, which had been quite a shock to his systems, considering that he'd just been released from the medical ward. However, he viewed the enhanced training as a way to get back in shape, so to speak, and by now he was positive that his former rustiness was all but gone.

            As X had promised back in the infirmary, Commander Archer had begun to place more emphasis on Vulcan, though he'd stopped short of assigning the Reploid the position of unit sergeant, for which Vulcan was grateful. As it stood, Archer only had two sergeants. They were Hawkins and Kyre, and both were battle-ready, though Kyre had given them a scare after the quarry battle. Kyre had met up with his pal and Vulcan's, Alec Tremont, only to learn that Alec was in a sour mood after the demise of his comrade, Carlos Delgado. _Goddamned Mavericks._

            Vulcan found himself in the segment of the unit more closely associated with Hawkins, which was fine with him. Hawkins, after all, was quite an agreeable Reploid, and was extremely reliable in combat. Hawkins was a heavy assault specialist, like Rykov, who appreciated big guns more than anything in the world, except of course for filling things with holes using the said big guns. He looked after his squad with constant vigilance, and that reassured both those who followed his lead and Commander Archer, who liked it when he didn't have to worry about one of his sergeants leading a squad into a hopeless situation.

            Rykov, however, was in Kyre's squad, and Kyre was more or less the same soldier that Hawkins was. They both specialized in heavy assault, and Kyre had worked with Rykov during the quarry business, so they knew and respected each other, a development that had begun when Rykov had kindly stopped Kyre from stepping on a mine. He hadn't been around to shove Kyre out of the way before Malevex's sniper round caught him in the chest, but they both knew that you could only do so much.

            Krysta, the third member of Vulcan's little posse, did not seem to have a designated squad commander. She often switched from Archer to Kyre to Hawkins, which Vulcan found rather curious. He'd been meaning to ask her about that for a while. He suspected she didn't know why either, but it never hurt to ask. Besides, the accelerated training had kept him apart from his friends, which he rather hated after being confined to a hospital bed for so long. Any excuse to talk worked.

            Training ended abruptly when word spread of an attack in Sub-City 3. Archer had been summoned to some meeting, and when he came back he confirmed the rumors that Signas had been attacked and Zero had been captured.

            The first emotion that swept through the rookies of Unit 5 was one of dread. They'd lost one of their key soldiers. Could X handle things on his own? Of course he could, they all realized immediately. X had done it before, single-handedly. He'd have all sorts of troops at his disposal this time. It wouldn't be like the other uprisings, Vulcan reminded himself. This was the destruction of a base, not necessarily the infiltration of one. He was wrong, though he couldn't have known that. Only unit commanders had all the details of BROKEN HALO, and they planned to let their troops know just before they moved out.

            Krysta wound up talking to Vulcan first.

            "Doesn't this make your confidence soar, pal?"

            He grinned. "If you ask me, it was a dumb move on their part. Zero's inside the base now, and we still have enough firepower to take the place apart. We can work from the inside and the outside."

            Krysta shrugged. "We'll see."

            Vulcan blinked. "Something wrong?"

            She sighed, clearly frustrated. "'My role in this mission has been redefined.'"

            "What? What do you mean?"

            "Unit 5," she explained, "is supposed to form the right flank for Zion's Unit 20, with Unit 3 under Mason as the left flank."

            "Where'd you hear that?"

            "Archer," she replied simply. "He told me this when he gave me my revised assignment."

            "Which is…?"

            "I get to hang back a while. The rest of you get to go off and fight and I get to manage the departing mobile infantry."

            Well that explained why no squad had laid claim to her. Still, it seemed like a pretty random action on Archer's part. "Why'd they pick you to do that?"

            She smiled distantly. "Before I came here, I worked at a manufacturing plant that supplied the Hunters. I manned the computers that monitored the product while it functioned, and apparently similar skills are required to do the operating checks on the mini-tanks and ride armors before they can leave." She shook her head, trying to dismiss it. "I'll still be coming along, but it'll be with Commander Zegmann's Unit 15. They'll be the last to leave. And even then I'll be with the stragglers."

            Vulcan nodded, noting that she clearly wasn't happy with this. "What's the big problem? You don't have to worry about being taken apart."

            She sighed again. "No, I get to play computer technician while the rest of you do your jobs."

            "But you'll be doing your job too," Vulcan pointed out. "The Hunters need people with computer skills. Scythe is staying behind too, I heard. He won the bloody weapons match, and they're keeping _him _behind."

            "He only won because you and Rykov eliminated each other," Krysta replied.

            "That's not the point." Well what was the point, then? "If I were you, I'd be happy. I'm not a coward and you know it…hell, even Rykov has reservations about going to fight. Us soldiers are too eager to throw our lives away."

            "Then why become soldiers?" Krysta fired back. "If we're reluctant to go to battle, why not leave the fighting to those who won't hesitate?"

            It was a cavalier attitude, though Vulcan knew it wasn't Krysta's fault. She hadn't almost been sliced in half by a demon swordswoman. Vulcan had, and he was in no hurry to return to a place where something similar could happen.

            However, Krysta _had _been nearly blown to bits by mines. "Fighting is what we train for, sure, but…if you have a chance to avoid it, why not? Don't you even remember what happened to you in the quarry? You should have seen yourself in the medical ward afterwards. You had this look, like you'd seen death and just managed to get away, and it terrified you. I know the feeling. I remember lying around and wondering how in the hell, with all these sword wounds, had that bitch Maverick not managed to slice open my generator. I'm in no hurry to repeat that, nor should you be."

            She sighed. "I know what you're saying. I don't mean that hanging back is cowardice. It's…well, it's the whole 'team' thing that everybody tries to get across. If you don't fight with the rest of your unit…how can you feel like a part of the team?"

            Vulcan frowned, carefully planning his answer. He loved conversations like this. They forced him to develop new opinions on new things, and he was one who enjoyed philosophical debates. "You already fought with the team. I'm the one who fought outside of it on that damned train mission, and I'm fine, aren't I? You'll be in the Catskills eventually. It's not that big a deal. Neither of us have seen much combat, but I've seen more than you, and I'm telling you, I'd rather stay in the training rooms. There ain't nothing glorious about going out there and hacking some Maverick to bits. You do it 'cause it has to be done, not because it makes you into a man or a woman, or some fool thing like that. What's glorious is coming back after the battle, alive and in one piece, and watching the world unfold that you helped create, and the reason you can still watch is that you did what had to be done without taking any fool risks."

            Krysta stared at him a while before speaking again. "You sound just like X. What the hell did he DO to you in that infirmary?"

            He laughed. "Sorry, I get on a soapbox a lot. I know." He looked to Rykov, who was talking to Hawkins now about something or another. "I hear that the main reason people stay Hunters is because of the people next to them. So far I agree, even with my meager experience." He put on an honest smile. "I'll be happy only if you and Rykov get out of this mess alive with me."

            She laughed quietly, not sure what to say to that. "You sound like such a sap…we have to start you swearing and drinking like the rest of this crew." She laughed again, louder, and nodded. "But all right. I'll live if you live. Let's see if that works again."

            "Worked all right the last two times."

            She smiled sweetly. "Try not to let any more girls kick your ass, all right?"

            "You're only confident cause you'll be hiding in the garage for most of the fight."

            Her mouth dropped as she looked for a suitable response to the simple contradiction of his long speech. "You…_bastard!_"

            "I win," he said simply.

            "Get out of here!" she said, pushing him back with a laugh. "Go sweet talk Rykov."

            "He'd shoot me," Vulcan pointed out as they parted ways. Rykov finished talking to Hawkins and went over to meet his friend.

            "All ready for the party?" the sturdy Reploid asked.

            "I guess so," Vulcan responded. "What was that about?"

            "Demolition contest." Rykov wore a broad grin. "If you'll remember, before you got zonked out by that girl on the train, I was in a little contest with Hawkins. We're gonna settle the score after this mission, see who can blow things up the best."

            Vulcan had to laugh. "He's got years of experience on you, Ry. He'll kick your ass."

            "You say that now!" Rykov trumpeted. "But in time you will bow to the greatness that is Rykov, Exploder Extraordinaire…that doesn't sound very respectable, does it?"

            "No!" Vulcan laughed again. "Better than Mr. Blow-Up, though."

            This time Rykov laughed. "You ass. You'll respect mah authoritah one way or another, even if I have to plant mines in your bed. Now come on…Alec said he wants to show us his bird before we leave—oh, get your mind out of the gutter, you asshole!" Vulcan was doubled over laughing. Rykov slapped him hard on the back and he straightened up, snickering. "Hopin' this job'll give him the chance to avenge his pal."

            "Yeah," Vulcan agreed, getting serious. "He probably wants to hurt the bastards good, after that." _Goddamned Mavericks!!!_

            "Don't we all. Now go, scoot, skitter." They left the training room and headed for the airfield. Vulcan only made two jokes about "Alec's Bird" on the way down, and after a while Rykov was mad that he hadn't thought of it first. He must be getting rusty.

____________________

            Scythe entered the computer lab and scanned the rows of mechanical devices one by one until he found the right computer. He explained to the technician, a human named Joe, that he liked to be in a certain position of the room, for comfort's sake. Joe thought this was odd, but didn't make any note of it. In fact, Scythe chose the computer for two purposes. One was that he'd used this particular computer before, and it suited his parameters nicely, he thought. The other was because he wanted to be as far as possible from one of the other technicians…the tall, surly dark Reploid called Nightchaser.

            It wasn't that Scythe feared "Chase". Far from it, actually. It was merely the fact that Chase was an asshole, and Scythe couldn't stand being around assholes. The world only has so much free space, he reasoned, and it was overly cluttered with dimwits and assholes like Chase. If you had any opportunity to change that, why wouldn't you try to distance yourself from the said dimwits and assholes? Scythe had originally liked the computer room, before the other technicians had started talking to him. It gave him privacy, and he needed privacy both professionally and personally. He was a loner by nature, and never got along well with others. Vulcan, Krysta, they were all right, he supposed. They had good heads on their shoulders. Rykov and Alec were a little too rambunctious for Scythe's liking, though neither was as bad as Harrier had been. Scythe was glad that that Teytha chick had eliminated Harrier early on, or he may have done it himself. The cocky little shit hadn't given Scythe any peace since the weapons match ended. In a sense, Scythe appreciated the sentiment—not enough people appreciated his skills. They said he'd won the match on a technicality, after Rykov and Vulcan, the "true" competitors, had taken themselves out of the running at the same time. Scythe thought this was bullshit. Everyone forgot that to advance to the final battle in the weapons match, one had to overcome a number of preliminary opponents, and Scythe had done this with real skill and style. For all the attention to go to Vulcan and Rykov irked Scythe more than a little…but at least they weren't degrading about it towards him.  Harrier's constant efforts to impress Scythe, however, had grown on the lone wolf's nerves. _Oh well. _He supposed it couldn't be avoided. After all, even after Harrier had died, a new, worse asshole had stepped in to take his place.

            The said asshole was sitting in a corner seat at the opposite end of the room from Scythe. Nightchaser gave the gold Reploid a glare that said he hadn't forgotten the coffee incident. Scythe returned fire with the sweetest smile he could muster, a smile that wordlessly screamed "I knew you liked it." Nightchaser's blood boiled, but Scythe sat down before he could throw anything.

            Asshole, fool, loser, there were all kinds of words for Nightchaser. Scythe just hoped that he didn't interfere with his mission. Scythe was staying behind, manning the home front during BROKEN HALO. He would help command the antimissile batteries that would stand by, just in case Buzzbombs came flying at Hunter HQ. Scythe would have the security clearance to activate and fire the interceptors, so they could whiz harmlessly past the already active and locked-on Buzzbombs. Scythe shook his head. It was a useless sentiment. If a Buzzbomb got through, then they were all dead. No interception missile would take one out, not if it were fired so close to home.

            But, maybe that 1/100 chance would mean something, Scythe allowed reluctantly, and he accepted his job. It was better than being on the frontlines, he thought. Even if he did have to work with assholes like Nightchaser.

            For his part, Nightchaser didn't give a shit what Scythe thought. He didn't give a shit what anyone thought. He hated his superiors, he hated his current assignment, he hated half the people in this building…he hated the Hunter organization in general. Once this mission was over, he decided, he was out of here, headed someplace warm. He'd get away from all this chaos and find other Reploids like him. They had to be somewhere out there, he reasoned.

            Nightchaser readily accepted the hatred of others both because it was mutual and because he didn't deem their opinions worthy of his attention. He was a Reploid doing what he wanted to do while a turbulent world settled down. Then, he'd return to the outside world and continue on in some other profession. His beef was with all the lazy asshole Reploids who flocked to the Hunters, using the group as a shield. They were too damn scared to go out into the real world, Chase thought, and begin to associate with the people who would control their lives once Sigma died for good—the humans. Humans ruled everything, and sooner or later all Reploids were going to have to go back to working together with humans. Chase hated humans above all other things. They were condescending, racist elitists who treated Reploids like toxic waste. However, after a long period of hunting, Chase would find two or three humans who weren't complete bigots, and he wouldn't mind working with or for them for a while, trying out some new profession in life. There was one he'd been really happy with—deliveries. He'd worked for a company that transported fairly large, complicated products to places all over the world. Chase had gotten the opportunity to travel and see new places, which was perhaps his only real hobby.

            Then came the damned Repliforce War and suddenly no one trusted Reploids anymore. Chase had been cut loose, and he'd joined the Hunters to pass time. He'd expected some scare like this to happen after the fourth uprising—it always happened. After this, he'd be free to head off back to wherever he wanted to go. Maybe he'd get back at some assholes who'd pissed him off while he was here, he thought, looking at Scythe and thinking of Vulcan.

            He was in the computer lab because, before working deliveries, he'd done something he really hated—network managing. Apparently, what he'd done was similar to what needed to be done for something or other crucial to BROKEN HALO, and so Nightchaser had been forced to sit out the battle and play computer technician. He _really _hated computers, and would much rather be having fun dismembering things. Still, he did have a computer, and that meant maybe he could piss people off for giving him this crappy job. He was very good with computers, so he knew of one surefire way. He'd just have to wait. If he were needed, his old pals would give him a call. Nightchaser leaned back in his chair and waited for his computer to boot up.

____________________

            The last major task of the day involved the fliers of an unfriendly sky. Commander James Taggart saluted as a stately looking Reploid touched down on the ground, having hovered down from the top of a transport ship. He had been pattered after a horse, a Pegasus to be exact, and the horn associated with the Pegasus sat in the middle of his white forehead, though it was nothing more than a simple spike. His armor was formed into a uniform primarily white in color, with trimmings of red and gold. Broad white wings adorned his back, and an air of authority surrounded the new arrival.

            "How was the flight?" Taggart asked after the Reploid returned his salute.

            "Dismal," he replied, motioning behind him towards the thick, black cloud cover approaching Hunter HQ. "The pilot drove us right through that. Turbulence like you wouldn't believe…but enough of that. It's good to see you again, Jimmy."

            "Pleasure's all mine, Sky," Taggart responded, accepting the Reploid's offered hand gingerly.

            The Skiver shook Taggart's hand carefully, not crushing it like other Reploids who underestimated their own strength had a habit of doing. "Bloody awful business in the Sub-City." He spoke with a British accent, having been activated and trained to serve with the New London (or Megacity 12, officially) Air Force, the descendents of the SAS. In time, that particular air force became a branch of the Repliforce, and during the fourth uprising the Skiver had kept a low profile. He'd obtained a leadership position easily, and used his position to try to influence his good friend and former mentor, Colonel, to stop the Repliforce coup. The Skiver himself had never attacked a human settlement, though he had stopped some Hunter aircraft before they could attack Repliforce targets. After the foolish war ended, the Skiver's stability had been noted by the Megacity Council, and he was tapped to lead the Reploid Air Force, a collection of former Repliforce and Megacity Army sky patrols who needed assignments to keep them from getting into trouble. The Skiver had done remarkably well in not only converting his team of rogues into a respectable air force, but also in rebuilding the bridges burnt during the fourth uprising between Repliforce elements and the Maverick Hunters. In fact, there was only one grudge that the Skiver had carried out of the fourth uprising—he'd never forgiven Zero for killing Colonel. However, since he heard that Zero hated himself for the deed, he saw no need to press the issue. Revenge was not something he placed much importance on.

            "It's rotten," Taggart agreed, leading the Skiver back to the hangar where his Ravens were stored. "But it's inspired us, in a way."

            The two airmen entered the hangar and surveyed the Ravens being prepared for battle. The Skiver examined one up close. He'd seen Ravens before, but he was still more used to the old Repliforce Dark Clouds.

            "Bloody fine aircraft," he remarked, which was quite a statement from an old enemy. The Reploid Air Force and the Maverick Hunters were allies now, but a rivalry still existed.

            The rivalry made it all the harder for Taggart to approach the next issue. "We had fifteen Ravens, but one got shot to hell the other day and three more are down with serious maintenance problems. That leaves 11. That should be enough, but we still don't know what Tony Jones at Alden Base can get us for home court defense."

            The Skiver grinned mercilessly. "I know, we've already been alerted. Don't feel so bad, Jimmy. It's not that you're inferior. It's that we have more lunatics in airplanes than you do."

            "Sure thing, you smug bastard."

            "As far as our response," the Skiver got down to business, "our force is larger than yours, but not by much. 11 Ravens really ought to be enough to handle Seraph Castle, but I don't know about dividing them to guard your Headquarters. I can help you there."

            "What do you have to spare…?"

            "I know that Dark Clouds aren't as nifty as your Ravens, but you'll have to do with those. We have twenty on standby should things go awry. If that's not enough, we do have plenty of aerial mechaniloids and even a gunship or two. Believe me, we're trying to guard against the whole 'Maverick sky superiority' thing. Oh, did I forget the Hawks and the Eagles? They're not as good as a jet, but they're airborne, aren't they? We'll hang back and protect the city. If we see a, ah, a guest, we'll try to take it out before it gets too far." Both knew what the guest was, and neither wanted to even think about one of them getting this far.

            "Thanks," Taggart said, relieved. "Jesus, I'll be glad when this is all over."

            "You and me both, old friend."

            "Where are you staying?"

            The Pegasus shrugged. "The Army's quartering me near Alden Base. If anything happens in that Sub-City, I'll throttle the foes good."

            Taggart nodded, believing it. His comrade kicked like the bipedal horse he resembled. "I'd ask if you wanted to have a pint, but now's not the time to be tipsy."

            "Quite so. Wouldn't that be our luck?" It was only vaguely funny.

            Taggart checked on the rest of the Ravens with the Skiver in tow. When he came to the empty slot formerly occupied by Raven 12, his mind began to simmer with rather venomous thoughts. He'd get the bastards who killed Delgado. No one shot down one of his airmen and lived.

            _Goddamned Mavericks._


	29. Coercion

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Coercion 

            Jungle heat was something that the Breaker was used to but hated nonetheless. He was grateful once again that he could not sweat. Not only would it be uncomfortable, but also it always seemed to attract the little bugs like mosquitoes. Mosquitoes didn't mean much to the Breaker, but they did itch when they landed on what of his skin was exposed.

            Whoever constructed his new friend, however, had been one of those "build the robot as similar to a human as possible" people, and the poor bastard was constantly wiping his face to clear away the moisture triggered by internal heat sensors. A stupid function to put on a Reploid, really, as it didn't serve to cool them, but with humans, appearance was everything, wasn't it?

            And besides, the Breaker thought, his "friend's" distraction merely made him more uncomfortable than he already was. The Breaker found that most of the time, truly uncomfortable people would not just get up and walk away, but would instead first try to concede to someone else's point of view and _then _get up and walk away. Perhaps it was the fear of having to come back and do it again? The Breaker didn't know. Like most things, he thought it was stupid. He was a cynic to the core.

            They were sitting in a booth at an outdoor café, located too far from Commander Yammark's camp to worry the Breaker and too close to other people to worry the scientist Reploid that was keeping the Breaker company. As the security officer had expected, the scientist's chief fear had been going off someplace alone with someone who was clearly dangerous. He was more comfortable in this setting, but only slightly, the Breaker noticed with a grin: the mosquitoes were bothering him.

            "I still don't quite follow you," the scientist said after wiping his brow for perhaps the fiftieth time. "Commander Yammark is in charge of field operations. My people man the research station that Yammark's people live near. Occasionally Yammark and his people bring us some data to study, but aside from that, we have little to no communication with his unit, and even less with Gate. We occasionally send him some bits of our research to pay him back for Yammark's help, but nothing major."

            "And why is that?" the Breaker asked coolly. It wasn't an interrogation, both men knew. The Breaker was leading into something, but the scientist didn't know what. The questions were intended to prod him in the right direction, but as of yet the scientist couldn't quite figure out what the Breaker was getting at.

            "Information is valuable," the scientist answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "This land is constantly changing. The Amazon was about to die before we initiated the Fauna program." The Fauna program was merely the local version of the commonly used method of adding cybernetic implants to trees and plants, keeping them alive and functioning despite a rapidly changing ecology. "However, we still don't know what the results of the Fauna program will be. No one does, anywhere! The cybernetic implants have not been in action long enough for us to know what the real effect will be on the environment." He was in his element, and he was explaining it to this foolish brute Reploid who probably knew nothing about ecology period. "We need to study this forest for several more years before we can be sure of Fauna's outcome. Our findings may be crucial to other ecosystems on the planet. After all, the Amazon is one of the largest remaining single concentrations of wildlife left in the world. However, we need funds." He snorted. "The damned government, of course, places more emphasis on military functions and urban development than it does on wildlife preservation, or scientific research in general. Excuse me," he snorted again, "scientific research that doesn't involve making better condoms or devising new ways to make wrinkles and fine lines disappear. Trees will vanish and oxygen with them, but hey, people will die without fine lines and wrinkles!"

            "And without AIDS," the Breaker agreed, really agreeing this time. Here was another stupid thing about society. Appearance really was everything, he thought with his own snort.

            "Anyway," the scientist went on, "we get meager funding, and the threat to cut us off completely is always there. We fund-raise, sure, but that never works out in the end. We need government loans, and to get them we have to prove that we're really doing something down here. That means we have to come up with at least one or two Major Scientific Breakthroughs a year that nobody else figured out, and that, my friend, can be very difficult. We need to guard our information carefully, so that we're the only ones who can benefit from it. That's why Gate doesn't get anything major."

            The Breaker smiled thinly. It had finally happened—the scientist had opened the door for him. It was so easy, he thought. He hadn't exactly expected it to be hard, but certainly this kind of ease had been unexpected.

            After the incident at Split Mushroom's base, the Breaker had been charged with identifying the perpetrators and finding a way to stop them. He'd seriously doubted his chances at first, but the more he'd thought about it the easier it seemed. Identifying the perpetrators would be easy. Stopping them would be harder, but one thing at a time.

            The Breaker had collected the pieces of the dragonfly drone that he'd squashed, examining the parts in his private weapons lab. The pieces were very minute and sensitive, which meant that they were probably rare. The Breaker had identified as many bits and pieces as he could, and then he'd used the powers of the Internet to track down the manufacturers of the said parts. That had been about one night's work, from the time he'd collected the pieces to the time he signed off the account in the morning. The account belonged to some of Mushroom's northern comrades, and was managed by a guy calling himself "Kujacker". It sounded familiar, but the Breaker hadn't cared enough to run a check on the name.

            From here it was a matter of finding out which company shipped what to whom, which could complicate things because there was no telling where the perpetrators had bought their equipment. As it turned out, the parts were indeed rare and only a few companies made them, but the companies shipped the parts out to plenty of upper-echelon corporations and manufacturers. To aid in this part of the search, the Breaker had played his second major card and gotten in contact with his man inside the Hunter HQ in Rio.

            Unlike the Hunters up north, the Brazilian force had never really encountered much in the way of heavy Maverick attacks. They were a small, loosely organized group of policemen who took out Reploid criminals who might prove to be too deadly for the human force to take down. Sure, they were loyal to their parent organization, but they were more loyal to themselves, and money, the Breaker knew, was the most beautiful thing in the world for any man, woman, or child. He'd found a high-level Hunter, bribed him regularly, and now the Breaker could learn what the local Hunters were up to via a simple phone call.

            The Breaker figured that, since Split Mushroom was building a camp for Mavericks, the Hunters would be the first to learn what the perpetrators had seen. Indeed, the Breaker had learned, there was something big happening in Brazil. The Hunters were getting ready to attack some jungle base, but amazingly enough the Hunters themselves would not be coordinating the attack. That would be the job of "some guy from up north".

            This had been the only real hard part. The Breaker had identified the threat, but he hadn't really identified the perpetrators themselves, nor had he figured out how to stop them. He easily got a list of all major units operating in Brazil by hacking into a government network—actually, he had someone else within the government do the hacking…money is beautiful, after all—but even this didn't help him much, because he had no leads that would point to any one group in particular. The only leads he had were a crushed dragonfly drone and a report from Tekki and his fellow scouts that black hovercraft had been seen leaving the site. Lots of armies had black hovercrafts nowadays, so that wasn't much to go by.

            The Breaker had then turned to the only lead that thus far had done him any good: the dragonfly. He ran checks on every single part in the drone, even the ones he couldn't identify, and checked with business network after business network, trying to get a match. In the end, he'd let one of Mushroom's technicians install a computer program to do the job for him, running checks on every piece in hundreds of company databases at once.

            The following day, the program paid off. The Breaker received a message that identified "C128", a chip found in the drone's head. Apparently, C128 was a chip that allowed a photography unit to function properly inside the tiny drone head. More interestingly, there was only one company that produced the C128 model, a computer firm called Haim, a subsidiary of the popular Reploid parts manufacturer, Hayatom. The Breaker had immediately tapped into Haim's databases, again with the help of Mushroom's technician and that Kujacker fellow, and he'd come across a delivery ledger that indicated C128's major purchaser—Zarves Electronics, a company in Megacity 5. Investigations into Zarves had presented the Breaker with several new leads. Zarves served the entire Megacity, but a few groups bought heavily into its products. One was the Megacity Army, which simply did not exist down here. That left associates of a scientist named Gate, who the Breaker knew to be an internationally respected scientist with ties to the Hunters and who, coincidentally, managed a squad here in Brazil. A simple crosscheck of the list of organizations operating in Brazil confirmed this theory. The Breaker had found the "guy from up north".

            Gate's man in Brazil was a Reploid called Yammark, who kept a low profile and did field research for a team of scientists seeking to preserve the Amazon. Getting a picture of Yammark had been nearly impossible, but the Breaker had been reassured when he'd finally bribed the right person and got the image—Commander Yammark was a dragonfly. There was no question about it: he'd identified the perpetrators.

            Next, he had to figure out how to stop them. Gate was up north, so there was little that could be done to him. Yammark, on the other hand, was a different story. He would most likely be coordinating things on the ground for his boss, and if he suddenly were not able to do that…well, things would be looking better for the Mavericks.

            Scientists were a predictable people, even the Reploid ones. They viewed their individual research as the most important thing in the world, and were pissed off whenever someone else didn't agree. They were defensive, idealistic, and therefore easily manipulated. The Breaker had devised a simple yet elegant plan and made the necessary preparations. Then, he'd arranged through more bribed comrades a meeting with a Reploid scientist named Manolin. This scientist now sat before him, in this populated café outside the Amazon, and had just paved the way for the Breaker's assault. It was time to put the plan into action.

            "Indeed," the Breaker said gingerly, "it is necessary to maintain credit for the work you do. Money, I know, is very precious in your community." _And in mine, _he couldn't say. "Now, I know I do not look it, but I do know about your Fauna project, and I have studied the cybernetic implant programs around the world. In Panama, where I was activated, I worked near a forest cluster that received the implants without much thought being put into the matter. It was beautiful. I should have brought a picture, I have a few." His voice dropped to something less than friendly. "Years later the program failed. The implants couldn't keep the trees alive. In fact, they killed them. Of course, the implants prevented the trees from falling down, so they stood there and rotted for a few more years. Well, of course, a storm came along a few more years down the line and the winds were too much for these frail tree shrouds. Down they fell…"

            "Onto a children's picnic ground," Manolin finished in a serious air. "You speak of the April 9th tragedy. The trees stood even after the storm ended and visitors returned to the park, but…"

            "They'd finally been weakened," the Breaker went on, showing his interest in the matter, "and many fell at once, at the worst time." He stopped and shook his head, sighing. "Twelve dead children…so high a number because one tree fell near the makeshift nursery. Infants cannot run away." He looked up and blinked. "I did not know that the incident was so famous."

            "Indeed!" Manolin said loudly. "Everyone in the ecological community knows of that disaster! It is a tragedy we cannot stand to see happen again. That, my friend, is why we are so anxious to make sure that Fauna works out. My word, can you imagine the entire Amazon falling down around us? Not only would the ecological aspects be irreparable, but the climate, the economy, the…the everything!" He pounded his fist on the table. "But the damned fools in charge don't see it! They only see their condoms and their anti-wrinkle creams! They deny us the aid we need and then scold us when we fail to prevent the inevitable situation that _they _created…it always happens that way!"

            His acting had been flawless. The Breaker allowed himself an inner smile: things were going very, very well. "Yes…I understand, I understand it all. That is why I wanted to meet with you. There are things, my friend, that you need to know, things that those fools do not want you to know, or perhaps do not know themselves." Manolin looked at him with interest. He had the scientist hooked, the security officer knew. He hoped he didn't blow it now. "I recall a grant that was supposed to go to the scientific community two years ago…your scientific community."

            "The Valdez Grant," Manolin nodded comprehension. "Hugo Valdez, a local businessman, wanted to show how generous he was, so he gave the government a hundred thou to loan to the scientific community of their choice." He growled. "We were at war, if you will, with the pharmacists led by Ricardo Avila. Avila had been investigating the Amazon for herbs that could be used in new medicines, a noble cause, but he already had grants to back him up. We, on the other hand, were struggling, and we were in the middle of Fauna's most crucial studies." A sigh. "As bad fortune would have it, we were both working on the same piece of information. We thought we had the answer, but Avila's people were more confident. They came out with the information first, and it was enough for them to win the Valdez Grant. We survived, but only by the skin of our teeth. Commander Yammark was with us during this time, but didn't make much use of himself. He doesn't really tie into this in any way, though."

            Time to spring the trap. "My friend…that is not true."

            Manolin blinked. "Excuse me?"

            The Breaker smiled in a way that conveyed that he was about to say something painful but really had no choice. "Did you never once find it interesting that just when you thought you had the right idea on your project that Avila's people came out with it almost immediately?"

            "Well…" Something in the back of the scientist's mind understood, but for the most part he was still skeptical. "We were neck-and-neck the whole time. It was really only the matter of a few days time."

            "What did Yammark specifically have to do with that project?"

            "He…" Manolin thought. "Well, nothing, if I remember correctly. He carried information from us to Gate, nothing about the project, of course, just what we gave him to keep him around. He never saw anything important."

            The Breaker smiled in the same way as before. "I very much regret to tell you that you are mistaken."

            The idea in the back of Manolin's brain grew larger, but he was able to subdue it, filing through his common sense to find another suitable explanation. "How could he? We have security like you wouldn't believe on those files."

            "Friend, do you know what Commander Yammark did before he came to Brazil?"

            Manolin did not, and the suspicion grew. "What did he do?"

            The Breaker produced a file folder and removed two sheets of paper. One showed an image of Yammark and several other teammates and the other was a fact sheet. The way things were going, he thought that maybe his words would be enough, but it didn't help to have evidence…fabricated or not. "Commander Yammark was a freelance reconnaissance scout who worked with pretty much anyone who could hire them. Yammark was and is a master at spying, information gathering, and yes, security breaching. You no doubt have seen the dragonfly drones that constantly buzz around him?" It was a trick question. If he had, then he would understand where the Breaker was coming from. If he had not, suspicion would grow, and he would still understand where the Breaker was coming from. "They are equipped with cameras that relay images directly to Yammark's CPU. They can fit into tight places and get to areas where any other spy would be hard pressed to enter.

            "Yammark's ideologies toward science prompted his enlistment with Gate and his crew," the Breaker went on. "This is his second assignment with Gate, and while he does do field research for you, he is above all loyal to his boss up north…the man who formed his ideologies and also the man who pays his bills."

            "Wait…" Manolin tried to catch up. "You're saying that Yammark somehow got a hold of our information? That he is a spy, working against us?"

            "He doesn't work for or against anyone," the Breaker clarified. "He represents Gate, who despite his claims to the contrary is just another politician. Gate is recognized throughout the world as a genius, and now he has started to gather a following. Of course, only the richest of people are invited to Presidential Balls, and to fly with Gate you have to be rich enough to afford that first class ticket. He needs support to solidify himself as a political presence, and that means he needs more big name people under him." Every word out of his mouth, as far as he knew, was a lie. He was very good at lying.

            "What are you getting at?" Manolin asked, though deep down he already knew.

            "When you are like Gate, and you are in a position like that, well…if you need a power base, why wait for one to come to you when you can build one from the ground up?" While Manolin absorbed that, the Breaker produced another piece of paper. It was an account transfer report that had been printed a day before at Mushroom's base, totally fabricated by the Breaker himself. Manolin didn't know that, though, nor did he need to.

            "What is this?" the scientist asked.

            "Proof," the Breaker said gently. "What you see is the record of financial aid being shared between agents working directly for Gate…and members of Ricardo Avila's group of scientists."

            At this Manolin's eyes went wide. His head snapped up from the paper and he looked at the Breaker with a gaping mouth. He looked back down, and then back up, processing the information and not doubting the Breaker's words at all. He should have, but there was no reason to in his frantic mind…the Breaker was a comrade, a man who'd been just as moved by the April 9th tragedy as the rest of them. "Why…?" he finally asked. "It doesn't make sense…"

            "It does. Commander Yammark waits for the right moment. Then, when he hears that you have completed your research, and you think that you have found the solution to your project, he steals or copies your information and returns it to Gate with the garbage you give him regularly. Gate then gives the information to Avila, who fills in the holes with what his group has figured out. Then he releases the results and receives the grant, establishing him as a prominent world scientist…loyal to Gate. Just like that, Gate has another ally on his road to power."

            "But why?" Manolin asked again. "Why not us? Yammark was already working for us! Wouldn't it have been easier to just support us?"

            The Breaker put on that pained smile again. "I am sorry…but think about it. You are a loose collection of scientists with no real leader, and no real support despite your important mission. Avila, on the other hand, was already a prominent figure in the scientific and pharmaceutical community. It would be easy for Gate to mold him into the person he needed to be, and that is precisely what he did."

            "That grant…"

            "It should have been yours," the Breaker nodded gravely. "But because of Commander Yammark, you were set back two years, and you barely survived financially with a less than satisfactory program."

            Manolin examined the "evidence" once more, but he was already sold. In his mind he'd asked the obvious questions, and had decided too quickly that the Breaker was telling the truth. His eyes flared with fury at the hopeless unfairness of the situation. Alarms that should have gone off didn't; he was an idealistic scientist who was being presented with evidence against a person he hated because of differences in ideology…he had been doomed before the conversation had even started. Still, through the fog of fury and shock, a final logical question came out of his mouth: "How do you know all of this…? And why would you tell us?"

            The Breaker smiled in a friendlier manner. "I represent another group that Gate has betrayed. I represent the children who died April 9th, all those years ago." He motioned to the nearby rainforest tree line. "And I myself am a man who wants to see those trees standing decades from now." It was true—trees provided good cover when on the run. "Medicines, condoms, and wrinkle creams…all of those can wait. Right now there is only one project that needs to succeed in this forest, and that's you guys, and you are being bled dry by an inside man." He looked the scientist in the eye and spoke with a calm, powerful honesty. "I don't want to see the last groups of good guys fall into the background. And that will happen, if someone does not act soon."

            The Breaker shoved the file folder and its remaining contents over to Manolin, who looked through them half-heartedly. His mind was gone, in another place, and it wasn't coming back for a few seconds. When it did, the fury had fled his eyes to be replaced by…nothing. His face showed nothing at all. The scientist looked up and met the Breaker's gaze, holding it for a few seconds. The security officer kept his face sympathetic, knowing that he'd won, but knowing also that he could undo everything by saying or doing the wrong thing right now.

            "What must I do?" the scientist asked. No, the Breaker knew, he'd won, and now there was nothing that could stop him. He had a devoted scientist at his disposal…and scientists never betrayed their ideals.

            The Breaker reached into a compartment in his armor and produced a box. He carefully opened it and showed Manolin what was inside—a simple floppy disc. The scientist looked up in confusion. The security officer smiled easily and acted as though he'd erred in delivering his message.

            "Forgive me, I must explain. You surely must know of all the buzz among Yammark's people lately?"

            Manolin nodded somewhat distantly. "They found some camp or something in the jungle. They got Hunter and government support to go take it out. We assumed it was Mavericks."

            This was news. So, the government was in on this, too? That could complicate things. The Brazilian army was scarier than the Brazilian Hunter corps. "It is an easy thing to suspect, isn't it? And that is what they're telling the Hunters."

            "Then what is it?" Manolin asked, no longer doubting anything the Breaker told him.

            "How do you think Yammark has been able to accomplish everything he has with only his simple base networks?"

            "You're saying that's Gate's base out there…?"

            Another inner smile; this was too easy. "It's an old army storehouse that Gate's people use to send and receive message, and coordinate their more covert actions, of which I assure you Yammark was a part. It was discovered by army personnel, however, and now it's location has been compromised. Gate has no further use for it. To cover his tracks, he's told Yammark to find a way to dispose of it. A few fabricated images…a few words spoken to army officers…well, here you have it. An attack is underway to bury evidence of Gate's treachery."

            "Bastards," Manolin breathed. "Then Yammark is going to lead the attack?"

            "Unless Gate comes here himself, yes, that is what I suspect." He didn't lean forward, or change his voice to anything remotely conspiratorial. Instead he spoke casually, in the same pitch, keeping his guest at ease and making the whole thing seem like a normal walk through the park. "Listen. No one needs to die here. You may _want _to kill him, I don't know. But all that really has to happen is for something to cripple him and keep him out of that battle. Now, I don't know if you have any better ideas, but this thing here…" He tapped the floppy disc. "This thing contains a program that will stop Yammark's flight program." It had taken forever to identify what flight program Yammark used, much less a way to destroy it, but the Breaker had gotten the job done, as usual. "You probably have easier access to Yammark than others. Get someone into his camp and upload this program while he's in a recharging bay. When he tries to fly, the program will kick in and he'll be grounded, and a grounded dragonfly can't do much harm."

            "They have hovercraft," Manolin pointed out. "He can just hop into one of those."

            The Breaker waved it off. "Don't try to handle those. It's too easy to be spotted. You might set a bomb on one, sure, but there's no guarantee that Yammark will pick that one. It's not worth the trouble, or the risk to your own security." But in fact it was exactly what the Breaker wanted, and for the moment Manolin's ideals were more important than his personal safety. _Predictable little fool…_

            Manolin stared at the floppy disc in the small box. Gate had played them for fools all this time, using them and their noble purpose to advance his _business _associate, and therefore advance his own political standings. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he thought. He'd thought Gate was different. He'd thought Gate was a believer in the scientific field, not in power, not in that corrupt concept that led so many good men down the path of treachery and corruption. But, he had been betrayed. It had happened before and it would happen again, he knew. Scientists were there to be stepped on. Their products benefited all peoples, but no one gave them due credit or any patience whatsoever. They existed as servants, serving a disinterested society that took their ideas, patented them, packaged them, and spat them out into the world without thinking twice about other potential uses other than _making money_. Money, money, money! It was all money. And he was just a puppet, Manolin knew, a puppet controlled by liars like Gate and the fools in power who cared only about the comforts of the present, and turned a blind eye to the coming havoc of the future.

            _No more,_ he decided. _No more._

            Manolin looked back up and nodded at the Breaker, making a silent pact with the big Reploid. The Breaker smiled in overt relief. "I'm glad you understand." They stood and shook hands. "I am sorry, my friend."

            "Don't apologize for them," Manolin said with conviction. "You brought this to our attention. For that I thank you. They…no apology can save them. The rest of this…I will take care of the rest."

            He left the Breaker at their table and walked back to the jeep he used to get around. Minutes later the engine was on and the vehicle started down the dirt road. He did not look back.

            The Breaker leaned back and allowed himself a smug victory grin. It was all a lie, of course. To his knowledge, Gate had nothing to do with Ricardo Avila, and was perfectly loyal to his friends in Brazil. _Too bad,_ the Breaker thought emotionlessly. It would be a shock to Manolin when he found out…but he wouldn't find out, would he? Not unless he learned that there really was a Maverick base out there. Otherwise he'd discount anything that Gate, the Hunters, or the government told him. That was the beauty of intellectuals, the Breaker knew. They spent their lives in books or in labs, and when it was time to go outside they were lost and needed guides. Some found them. Others, like Manolin, found the Breaker or people like him. It was a harsh world, but business was business, and the Breaker was not involved in a profession that allowed for regret.

            The security officer spent another ten minutes reading a paperback before getting to his feet. He tipped the server and headed to his own vehicle, a large hovercycle upgraded to suit a Reploid of his bulk. He sped down the road in the opposite direction of Manolin. He had a few stops to make. The fact that the army was getting involved made for a new situation. The Breaker knew he couldn't have much time left. The attack would be coming very shortly, and they had to be ready. Split Mushroom had called in a team of real security guards to set up a proper perimeter at the Breaker's urging. This had been done a few days ago. The Breaker sorely hoped that they showed up in time.

            And if they didn't, well, it wasn't his problem. He'd hop on his bike, leave, and let the camp burn behind him. Business was business. His profession was one that _definitely_, above all things, did not allow for attachment.

            With this thought in mind, the Breaker headed to a contact's place of employment. He had a few calls to make.


	30. Nightmare

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Nightmare 

            Repliforce did not bother much with décor, Zero noted as he raced through the hallway of sorts. That, or they just hadn't had the chance to bother with it yet. This project had been fairly rushed, and for good reason, the Hunter thought with a smirk. Too bad that haste hadn't made a difference. Except, of course, that the whole place was more rickety than it would have been otherwise…and given where he was, that didn't make Zero feel very good.

            Electronic cables ran along the steel barriers that passed as walls, forming the hallway Zero passed through now. Artificial gravity was in action, rooting the Reploid to the ground so that he could fight properly. Of course, this also worked with his enemies, though Zero decided that the first such foe didn't count as an example—it floated.

            The mechaniloid eye was one used by hundreds of security systems back on Earth, and its function was simple and easily activated: it unleashed an extremely highly concentrated laser beam at anything that moved within its line of sight, and that laser would continue firing until the eye's battery was depleted. It would then go inactive for a bit and recharge for a second round. If the target managed to survive the laser attack, the chance to strike was when the floating eye was dormant.

            Zero knew all this already—he'd dealt with plenty of these things before. He stood in the open long enough for the eye to lock onto his position. Then he threw himself to the ground, and predictably the thick laser erupted from the eye's cannon and passed harmlessly over him. The eye wasn't famed for its adaptation to new circumstances; once it fired, it couldn't reposition itself without turning off the laser, which its programming would not allow it to do until the battery died. Zero waited for the few seconds it took for the machine to defeat itself, and then he leapt to his feet and charged the device. His lightsaber hung freely in his left hand, and he jumped at the last minute, pulling the blade up with him. The eye fell to the ground in two smoking halves. Its destroyer touched down a moment later, running off without even a glance behind him to acknowledge his victory.

            The Hunter allowed himself to hope. If the security inside Final Weapon was all like this, meaning all composed of the machines he'd fought on Earth, then he and X would be done here in no time. They'd smuggled themselves aboard with several select members of their units, who were now holding the fort in the Final Weapon's docking bay.  This vaguely worried Zero. He knew that he and X could take care of themselves, but would the other Hunters be able to make The Decision soon enough? The Decision, of course, was when to bail. Final Weapon was going to go boom in the end, Zero knew, and he hated initiating such a process knowing that his comrades were still in the area. But, he supposed it couldn't be helped, and that it was probably a foolish thing to worry about. These Hunters, after all, were the best and sharpest that they had.

X was infiltrating through another set of corridors that would probably lead him to General, judging from the maps that the Hunters had hastily downloaded before their assault. Zero had already admitted to himself that he hadn't the slightest idea where his path was taking him, but he'd guessed roughly that he was going towards the cannon chamber, which was the important part of the ship. The whole reason Final Weapon needed to go down was because of that cannon, which could wipe out entire cities with one blast. It was the Repliforce trump card, and while Zero doubted that General could bring himself to ever use it, others might not be so reluctant. And even General could suffer a breakdown, Zero knew. After all, he'd lost all eight of his commanding officers. He'd also lost Colonel, but...Zero didn't really want to dwell on that.

            His musings ended when he beheld his next obstacle. Two more floating eyes were flanking a large, squat machine equipped with duel rocket launchers. Perched on its back were two heat seeking missiles that it could fire while it reloaded its rockets. The whole scene was set in front of a tall wall…that wasn't really a wall at all. Zero did a split second analysis and saw that the top of the "wall" leveled out before it hit the ceiling…this was more of a road block than anything else, and scaling it would be no problem. First things first, however…

            The first eye locked onto him almost immediately. The Hunter rolled to the side to avoid the oncoming laser and charged towards the wall. Immediately the larger adversary fired off two of its slow-moving rockets. Zero adroitly leaped over them, spinning like a top in mid air and extending his sword arm fully. He sliced the first eye in two before it finished its laser attack, but didn't quite hit the second, which was turning to look at Zero with a most unforgiving glare as the Hunter latched onto the half-wall using mechanisms in his boots.

            The launcher bot, suddenly without a visible target but knowing there was still one in the vicinity, let loose its two missiles. They immediately floated upwards and locked onto the heat emitted from Zero's moving body. The Hunter dropped from his perch and passed right through the two missiles just before they converged on his former position together. The resulting explosion neutralized the second eye, which was just about to fire, but had unfortunately been just a little too close to its target.

            Never one to leave a battle unfinished, Zero cried "Hyouretszuan!" as he fell. His saber became encased with plasma-laced ice, and smashed through the launcher bot's armor. The mechaniloid's central computer was destroyed almost instantaneously, and Zero removed his weapon from the disabled machine, allowing himself a brief smile for his troubles.

            The crimson Hunter scaled the half-wall again, this time making it to the top unharassed. He stopped as soon as he saw it: a door. But not just any door. This was the door that most security teams installed to guard special rooms, and therefore it was the door that Maverick Bosses from the first uprising on had used to guard their sanctuaries. Zero couldn't blame them; the Hunters used the same system. Curiously enough, however, no one _ever _bothered to lock the damned things. More often than not, the only people who wanted to enter the guarded rooms were people with legitimate reasons for being there, and since the locks were extremely complex, it was often viewed as a waste of time to activate them. _I thought the Repliforce would know better,_ Zero thought as he approached the door—really it was more of a thick purple pillar—and rested his hand on the activation pad. _Tough break, guys._ The door emitted some churning noises as it began to spin, coming apart at the center and exposing its internal circuitry to the Hunter who'd seen it all a hundred times before. Zero stepped through quickly. Once he was a few steps inside, the door sensed via infrared beams that the way was clear, and slammed shut again, locking itself into place, securely waiting for the next trespasser with a single functioning brain cell to foil it.

            The room was predictable. It was a slim corridor with a low ceiling, the kind of passage that always stood between a sanctuary and the outside world. And, of course, it ended with another purple pillar. Zero stopped before proceeding. It was always worth it, he thought, to prepare himself for the battle that would probably be waiting for him. X did it every time, and though he hated to admit it, X really did have a hell of a lot more experience with this kind of thing than Zero did. What was behind that door? A power source, he hoped. He needed to start taking those out. One of the potential plans was to make General totally helpless, and hope the big 'bot was still sensible enough to know defeat when he saw it. Still, power sources were inevitably defended, so a fight was probably before him. Feh…since when had a fight ever turned him off?

            There was a first time for everything, though he wasn't thinking of that as he passed through that final door. Shortly after he dropped to the floor and the gate snapped shut behind him, however, it all became clear as day.

            The room was, for the most part, no different than the ones he'd just come through. It was much larger, with a very high ceiling, and another purple gate sat at the other end. The décor was no different—exposed cables on the walls, but the same solid, sturdy steel floor, which was a reassuring thing. His saber was out and clenched firmly in his right hand—he, like most Reploids, was ambidextrous—and his eyes were sweeping the large room in a cool, collected manner. No power cores. Nothing much at all, it seemed. Was this meant as a storage room? If so, General was being lax on the supply deliveries—

            A sharp intake of air from the middle of the room, where it was shaded due to a faulty ceiling light, commanded his attention. His saber immediately came to a fighting position. Whoever it was, he'd caught him off guard.

            "So…you actually came." And just like that, the tables were turned.

            Zero recoiled as though struck. His arm lowered and his weapon with it. He blinked at the shadows and the figure within became more recognizable, even though the voice had already served as proper identification.

            The figure turned and walked slowly to the other side of the room. There it picked something up, something that glowed a dark, purplish color. It calmly returned to its position at the center of the room, but didn't proceed any further. All this time Zero just stood and stared with his mouth slightly agape as he searched his mind frantically for something to say.

            "Nothing to say…?" the voice observed. It was delivered in a dull, emotionless tone, but still it cut like the coldest, sharpest wind. "I guess it's not a surprise."

            "Iris…" he finally managed to whisper. He lowered his sword completely, staring at his friend. He was silently horrified to realize that he didn't recognize her. She was bathed by the eerie purple glow emitted from the strange crystal she carried in her arms. It distorted the blue/red color combination on her armor, which had been broadened out at her waist to resemble the bottom of a dress. Iris had not been built to fight, so her creators had justifiably spent little time making her look like a warrior. Her petite frame looked somehow larger, though, and her pretty face was now totally devoid of emotion. It was the eyes that really got to him. They were dead, cold, and blank. It was as though she were staring right through him, though at the same time they were locked onto his face. It was a creepy dichotomy, and one that he found he could not handle for long. This was nothing like Iris…this could not be the girl he'd known for so many years.

            "Iris," he said, louder. "Iris, I know…"

            "You know?" she echoed in what should have been a spiteful tone, but was just as neutral as the rest of her, making it worse somehow. "You know…what?" She waited patiently for a response Zero could not give. Finally she lowered her head and seemed to stare through the floor. "So…you fought with my brother."

            "Iris," he said immediately, "I didn't have a choice! Colonel wouldn't back down, he wouldn't listen to reason…!"

            "And you did?" she asked, still without emotion.

            "Iris…" It frustrated him that he couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd gone over this speech in his mind a hundred times since that bloody, horrible moment at the Spaceport. Even now he could feel Colonel's body slumped against him as Zero tried to keep him kneeling upright. He could hear his old friend's dying words ringing through his ears as loud as bells, even though they'd been delivered in a rasping, labored whisper: "Zero…tell Iris…that her brother died happily." And Zero supposed that was the truth. Colonel's last visage was of the Repliforce vessels leaving for space, where they would defend General and activate Final Weapon, ensuring Reploid independence. And so, Colonel had died with his mission completed, and Zero had lived to confront Iris and tell her that he'd broken her trust and fought again with her beloved brother, and this time he'd gone and killed him. However Iris hadn't been there. She'd been on one of the vessels, headed here, Zero realized now.

            "Iris, I didn't have a choice," he repeated, somewhat helplessly.

            "Then it's over," she said, as simply as announcing the time of day. "Everything." She referred to so much. It was the end of their friendship, of course, but also the end of Colonel's life…and her own, Zero realized. At that moment he understood exactly what he had done; he remembered what Colonel and Iris _were _to each other. Iris depended on Colonel and Colonel depended on Iris. They were linked. That was why they referred to themselves as siblings. Their creators had intended to build the yin and the yang, the face of war and the face of peace, and link them as one. Colonel was built to head up Repliforce and serve as a tactician and soldier. Iris was built to represent life's remaining innocence. The link was supposed to ensure a perfect balance, but the fourth uprising had upset that balance, and Zero had gone a step further and destroyed it. He'd destroyed Iris's second half…a half that she couldn't stand to live without. The gravity of the deed was worse than any horror Sigma had ever put him through.

            "I didn't want to kill him," Zero tried again. "He was my friend."

            "He was my _brother_!" The only positive thing, and it wasn't really positive, was that emphasis had returned to her words.

            "And he launched a war that leveled cities and put hundreds of innocent people in their graves!" Zero's prerogative had become defending himself. "I had to fight him!"

            "You butchered him!" she hissed, accusation flooding her eyes. "I saw it…Double was _there_, Zero, he showed me!"

            "Double?" This was news. "What was he doing there?"

            A simple, disinterested smile appeared on her face for the briefest of seconds. "His job. I expect X will be meeting him right about now. He did a good job as a spy…I didn't suspect him at all, and I was around him all the time. Who knew he was working for the Repliforce?"

            _That bastard!_ "If Double's a sneak, why would you trust him? That battle was…"

            "It was brutal! I saw your eyes! You weren't holding back, neither of you were…you were just…monsters!" Her words drilled a hole through him. "You killed him without thinking, you only thought about it after he was dying in front of you!" Her voice cracked and she had to stop.

            "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry…" And he was, but what did that help? "You think I'm proud of it? I'm not…I'm not! It's the worst thing I've ever done!"

            "Oh, _that _was hard!" She was spiteful this time, and Zero found that he preferred her monotone. "What about me…? I asked you…I begged you! Both of you! You were his friend! Why didn't you reason with him? Why didn't you even _try_? It's all swords with you people! There's no time for anything but _death!_"

            "What was I supposed to do?" He was desperate now. The situation was getting out of hand and he did not like where it was going. "He was leading a caravan of ships up here, to build _this_! This is worse than swords! This will cause a lot more death than swords can! Was I supposed to let him? Was I supposed to let him kill more people?" He already hated himself for the words. Colonel's mission was not to kill. The Repliforce was idealistic. They fought not to kill humans, but to establish peace, which always ironically required war. "Reason failed! You think I would have fought him if I didn't have another choice?"

            Iris shook her head in a trance. "You didn't even try," she whispered. "You didn't even try…" She was shaking now. The purple crystal jittered in her hands. "He was my second half…I _need _him! What do I do? What do I do now?" Her tear-rimmed eyes looked right into Zero's own, and the Hunter could not stand the sight, but could not bring himself to look away. She was hurting, she was in agony, and he'd caused it, he'd caused every last bit of it, and there was _nothing _he could do to help her.

            "Iris," he said in a voice just as shaky as hers, stepping forward. "Please…"

            "No…!" She shrunk back away from him, tears running down her cheeks, her face a mask of desperation and confusion. She clutched the purple crystal to her chest as though she was a mother guarding her child, and the light illuminated her features. Her eyes seemed to be begging for answers, begging for reasons. She needed to know _why_, why had her best friend and most trusted confidant done this to her, why had he betrayed her and murdered the brother she depended on for emotional stability, and furthermore why he had discarded her pleas and ignored her most vital needs, this person he was supposed to care about? Zero truly had not wanted to kill Colonel. Colonel had given him no choice. The Repliforce officer had intended to do absolutely everything to ensure that the Spaceport Evacuation succeeded, and if that meant killing Zero, so be it. Zero had not tried to reason. He had begun to fight, thinking that if he could wound Colonel early on he could end the battle and then try to reason with his friend. Why? Why hadn't he tried to reason beforehand? He did not know, and so he had no answers for Iris, which in its own way was a worse blow to her than her brother's death had been.

            Iris straightened up, holding the purple crystal out in front of her. She looked up at Zero one last time. "I guess…that's it, then."

            That's when the Hunter finally got it. "Iris…what do you think you're doing?"

            She tried to look at him with resolve, but instead conveyed the shaky half-certainty that she truly felt. "I have to save him."

            "Iris, no!" Zero dropped his sword and started towards her again. Purple fire flared up from the crystal, blinding Zero and stopping his approach. He looked desperately through the flames and found her eyes, still fixing him with that agonized stare. "That's Colonel's power source…isn't it?"

            "Double brought it back," she said distantly. "Don't you understand? I have to save him! I have to keep him here…I can't let him leave, Zero!"

            "You weren't created for war, Iris! You can't handle that power!"

            "It doesn't matter!" she half-screamed, her long brown ponytail flapping behind her as the purple fire spread out from the crystal onto her body, creating some strange wind. "I can't lose him! I won't lose him! And I won't let you stop me!"

            _Oh, my God!_ He was paralyzed both by the horror of the moment and the dread of what was to follow. Iris wasn't thinking clearly. There was no way she could properly manage Colonel's power. Her body was not meant for that. Who knew what this crystal would do to her?

            But at the same time there could be no stopping her. She held in her hands the only remaining essence of her brother, and nothing in the world would make her pass on the chance to keep that essence with her forever, no matter what the cost. Her mind was gone, Zero realized, replaced by an insane desire for something she could not have.

            And he was to blame.

            Iris raised her hands and the crystal with it. Her legs trembled slightly but she held herself upright. The crystal left her hands and hovered above her. Purple fire flowed from it, surrounding her figure with an eerie outline. She looked at Zero one last time with a gaze that was just as confused and desperate as the others, but this time she was almost apologetic. She hadn't done anything to apologize for. That meant that it was yet to come. _Oh, no…_

            The crystal hummed and sent a bolt of electricity down that locked Iris in place with her back arched inward and her head hanging directly underneath the mysterious power source. "Stay with me, brother…!" she begged of the crystal, just as it flared with the brightest light yet. The electricity brightened also, and then something strange happened.

            Zero hadn't noticed any spare parts lying around when he'd entered the room, but all of a sudden there they were. They were pieces of something, he realized…pieces of a robot ride armor. A mecha. They were all light purple in color, and rather jagged. They attached themselves around Iris, encasing her small, energized body in a cage of her own creation, and one that she had no desire to escape from. As the final pieces fell into place, sealed with that freakish purple flame like it was some kind of glue, Zero made out the image of a gargoyle, complete with horned headpiece and huge wings that really served no purpose, since the main jet propulsion of the ride armor was controlled by an active engine below the wings. In place of a right arm, the gargoyle had a huge cannon that Zero immediately dreaded. The crystal itself lodged in a compartment between the wings, and the entire machine hovered slightly above the ground. Then it stretched out its stiff limbs and awoke to Iris's command.

            Zero didn't snap out of his trance until the gargoyle started his way. He stepped backwards, his eyes widening at the scene. "Iris…Iris, stop this! You don't know what you're doing! You're going to wind up—"

            "No!" her voice echoed from within the mecha. "You won't do it! You won't take him from me again!" The cannon raised, leveling in Zero's direction. "I won't let you…!"

            Though Zero would later try to think of a hundred other reasons why he just stood there while Iris prepared to kill him, the only answer that still remained was that he simply couldn't do anything but watch. The cannon surged with purple energies even as Iris commanded the mecha to dash backwards, where it had more room to ready the shot. Zero made it easy by just standing there.

            The laser was as thick as one fired from one of the mechaniloid eyes Zero had dealt with earlier. It hit him square in the chest and carried him clear across the room. He landed hard, looking up at the ceiling, or where it would have been: the laser was still going. It was huge, he realized now. The biggest laser he'd ever seen. The only reason it hadn't been that big when she'd started was probably because she didn't know how to handle this new power. That sure had changed fast…

            The Hunter shakily got to his feet, staring down the room at the monstrosity that encased his irrational friend. "Iris! This…this is not what you think it is! I'm not trying to take him away from you!"

            "You already did!" her voice challenged him. "You did once and you'll do it again! I know it! You won't listen to me; you'll do it again! I won't let you!" The cannon came up again.

            And then everything hit him at once. Iris had attacked him. She was doing it again. She was not rational. She wanted to kill him. If he did not do something, she would succeed. This was it. It had actually happened. He now had to fight Iris. _How could this be happening?_ He asked himself the same question over and over as he watched the cannon gather energy for another blast. _How did I allow this to happen…?_

            The cannon flared, but this time Zero moved. He leapt up and extended his legs in front of him. The thrusters inside them flared and he shot backwards, latching onto the wall and scaling it quickly, which proved to be unnecessary, as Iris's laser impacted the wall well below his position. Like the floating eyes, it seemed that she had to turn off the cannon to reposition it, and Zero took advantage of this. He jumped down as soon as the purple laser dissipated and his leg thrusters flared again. He dashed to the spot where he'd left his lightsaber and scooped it up in his hands. _Okay,_ he thought. _Now what?_

            "I knew it," her voice reached him yet again as she saw him take the sword. "You want to stop me. I knew it!" She aimed the cannon a third time.

            The mecha, he realized. That was his target. His friend was in there, and she might not think of him as a friend anymore, but she still meant something to him, despite what he'd done to her, and he had to save her. He had to get her out of there and away from that crystal. The crystal was messing up her mind. Colonel's presence was like a drug in the presence of an addict: it was far too tempting, and the end result was a warped mind in both cases. The crystal…it was between the wings, wasn't it? He had to dislodge that, and then maybe she would come to her senses. It was something to hope for, right?

            The laser screamed its way towards him, and the Hunter hit the deck. Immediately Iris lowered the cannon to cook Zero on the ground. The Hunter rolled to the side, wincing at the pressure on his wounds from the first laser, and continued rolling till he was well clear of the falling beam. He was just in time, he realized, as the laser hit the floor with a sizzling sound. He jumped to his feet and charged pointedly yet cautiously at the gargoyle monster in front of him, ready to put his plan into action.

            Iris saw him coming and panicked. She deactivated the laser and tried to turn, but that took too much time, she saw. She activated the thrusters on the gargoyle's back and it sped both forwards and upwards, though too slowly for her liking.

            Zero jumped up towards the mecha and slashed his sword into its chest, driving it back slightly but otherwise doing no noticeable damage. He landed underneath the machine and decided on a ploy that would be sure to discharge that crystal. "Rakkuoha!" he cried as he slammed his energy-laced fist into the ground. Immediately beams of power exploded up from around him, most of them going right up into the mecha's body. Zero counted several hits before he rolled away for fear that Iris might drop down and squash him. That sure jolted the monster, he thought. That should—

            No less than eight small, floating objects were homing in on his stationary position. They were mines, Zero realized, and tried to roll out of the way, too late. Several exploded into his body and the rest detonated around him, wounding him and sending him again across the floor, though not as far as the laser had. Zero lay there and surveyed the wounds. The gargoyle armor, he realized, must store those things, and must release them when it was impacted…in order to discourage fools like Zero from trying to dislodge the crystal. Great.

            The Hunter checked his generator and found that he didn't like it. He had two full Sub-Tanks, but he didn't want to use those just yet. Energy pellets were hard to come by, and harder still to convert to the tanks. If things got a little harrier, he'd use a tank, but for now, he had to concentrate on—

            She was on the ground again, turning the mecha his way. Zero got to his feet shakily and just stared, waiting for her to repeat her mistakes. Iris was not a combat Reploid. She probably would not learn quickly…unless being out of one's mind enhanced one's combat capabilities. The pain of his wounds was affecting his performance, he knew. He felt himself getting somewhat woozy, and a red mist lurked behind his eyes. He shook it off, and the slight rage that boiled within him died a little. Not now, he thought, this wasn't the time for fury.

            Sure enough, the cannon leveled and gathered energies at Zero's apparently paralyzed form. The Hunter immediately dashed to the right, coming around the mecha from the side. Iris saw this and again panicked, shutting off her cannon and trying to turn the mecha to face Zero, but she did not have the know-how needed to make the machine operate properly.

            He had to move carefully, Zero knew. He kept moving around the slow-turning mecha, trying to get a clear shot at its back. Iris, not knowing where her enemy was and afraid because of it, decided to get back into a position where she could see the entire room. The thrusters on the gargoyle flared and it surged backwards towards the far left wall…much to the crimson Hunter's dismay.

            Zero's thrusters were on just a second after the gargoyle's were, and his body thankfully took action faster. He was at the wall and halfway up it before the gargoyle arrived, thanking his training and reflexes for not allowing himself to be splattered all over the wall. Below him, Iris was turning from side to side, a slow, cumbersome process for the gargoyle. She was looking in every direction but up. Zero could see the crystal, but he feared that his ice lance would do more harm than good.

            The gargoyle was perhaps three feet away from the wall. It would have to do, Zero decided. The crimson Hunter dropped to the floor directly behind the mecha and right away started back up. "Ryuenjin!" he said as he dashed straight upwards, his sword coated with fire. The flaming "uppercut" knocked the crystal out of its hiding spot very easily, damaging both the crystal and the gargoyle's back.

            The mines exploded into Zero instantly, pressing him against the wall. Even through the sound of the explosions, though, Zero made out Iris's agonized scream. _The crystal_, he realized. The crystal was linked to Iris. It provided her with the power she had never been meant to wield, but at a price: she felt pain for it.

            Iris wasn't sticking around to repeat that episode. The thrusters flared again, burning Zero in the process, and the mecha zoomed to the other side of the arena where it began the slow process of turning.

            He had no choice, he realized as he wiped the blood off his chest. His armor was damaged, and a lucky shot would damage his generator more than he could afford. Zero activated one of the Sub-Tanks within him and drew half of its contents, recharging himself somewhat. He was reenergized, but Sub-Tanks couldn't repair armor, could they? This was getting hard and painful, and the pain and blood were starting to cloud Zero's senses. The fury boiled up again inside him, and he didn't try to suppress it this time. He needed the adrenaline, he decided. It was a poor decision, as he was to find out.

            He realized that the cannon would be pointed his way soon, and so he decided to repeat his earlier tactic. This time he waited for the purple beam to start coming before he scaled the wall, stopping halfway up and hanging on tight, looking for a better vantage point.

            The purple laser took him from below, having caught him completely off guard. Where had it come from? It totally covered him with harmful energies for a second or two, and then he fell through it and hit the ground hard. He gasped, half-choking on blood, and tilted his head to see…

            The crystal. It was hovering, free of the gargoyle's body. It had come up underneath him while he hid from the horizontal laser and fired a vertical one. He'd be dead, he knew, if he hadn't just used that Sub-Tank.

            It was just too much. Zero got to his feet almost without conscious effort. His sword was clenched in a hand…which one was it? He didn't know or care. He saw that crystal right there before him, hovering up into the air to float casually across the room to rejoin its master, that gargoyle monster that had just almost killed Zero, the monster that wanted to kill him again, the monster that had his friend imprisoned within and was driving her insane—

            He was flying through the air, he realized, propelled by his own thrusters. The red mist was back, the fury was flowing freely. His sword was behind his shoulder, and he was bringing it forward with the most effort he could muster. He'd destroy that crystal. How dare it do these things? He'd destroy it. He'd tear it apart. He'd leave nothing left. He'd kill it, he'd kill that gargoyle, he'd…

            He'd kill Iris.

            That realization rang through his head as his sword crashed into and through the purple crystal, shattering it like glass. The sword flew from his suddenly numb hand and his body actually fell into the wall, making no attempt to stop itself. Zero fell to the ground in a heap, the mist clearing from behind his eyes, the red veil of anger vanishing. Conscious thought returned, and he regained his senses just in time to hear…

            …The longest, most horrible scream of pain he'd ever heard.

            The Hunter raised his head as though in a trance, watching the gargoyle spasm and jerk. It flared with the same purple fire that had coated the crystal that now lay in pieces near him. Zero turned his head and stared into the biggest fragment of the crystal, which still had a bit of glow left in it. In the glow Zero could see Colonel, he thought. He saw Colonel, and he saw the look of horror on Colonel's face.

            "What have you done?" Colonel asked incredulously. "Why did you do this? Why did you do this to my sister?"

            Noises returned his head to the gargoyle. Bits and pieces were falling off. It was trembling furiously, and sparking like a faulty wire.

            Then it exploded.

            The light was extremely bright, he thought as he stood, staring ahead like a zombie. The sound was…there was no sound. His hearing seemed to be turned off. His sight as well, he thought, until he realized that his optics were recovering from the flash.

            When the smoke and light cleared, Zero beheld a scene from a junkyard. Bits and pieces of the gargoyle were scattered everywhere. Internal contraptions lay in smoking, ugly piles. Unused mines lay dormant everywhere. In the back of his mind Zero wondered if this was what X had found, all those years ago, when another explosion had taken out another ride armor. The only difference was that a genocidal madman had piloted that first ride armor. A confused girl with destroyed emotions had operated this one. And this is what he'd done to her, Zero saw. He hadn't thought about anything but destroying that crystal. He'd let the sensation of battle take him. He'd done the same thing with Colonel, he realized with anguish. One minute they'd been firing off accusations, and the next they'd been fighting to the death. Zero remembered none of the bloodier moments of the battle. All he remembered was a brutally defeated yet still noble Colonel kneeling before him, leaning on his saber and then Zero himself for support. And now this. "What have I done…?" he agreed with the departed Repliforce officer.

            When he found Iris, she was half covered by rubble. Her body was in tact, surprisingly. There was nothing missing that Zero could see. He didn't remember anything about dragging her out of the rubble, or carrying her away from the main wreckage. The next conscious thought he had was that he was half kneeling, half sitting, cradling her still form, absently stroking her hair and staring down at her face, which was contorted by what surely had been terrible pain. _No,_ he actually prayed, _no, God no, tell me she didn't die like that…not in that kind of pain…God, I caused it. I killed her like that, I knew that the crystal hurt her, and I still…_ His mind nearly exploded at the realization that followed. _Even Sigma has never done something like this._

            He didn't know how long he'd been looking at her like this before he noticed that she was moving. It was little more than a shiver, just the slight trembling of her small body, but it was still movement. There was breath, too, he realized, the breath that was not necessary for Reploids, but still signified functioning body parts. "Iris," he said, and then realized his voice was little more than a whisper. "Iris," he said louder, shaking her gently, "Iris!"

            Iris's eyes fluttered open with terrible slowness. Her eyes were still watery from the tears that must have come with the kind of pain Zero had inflicted on her in his moment of violence. Again the Hunter damned himself for it, damned himself to the worst fate that could await a Reploid, whatever that might be. Iris focused her eyes on his face, and there was none of the insanity that had been there previously. The crystal was destroyed. Colonel's unintended curse had been lifted. At least he'd done that for her, he thought. But no…no, that wasn't it at all. Colonel would have wanted him to save his sister, not kill her. Killing was not saving. Zero knew that now. He knew it like never before. He'd failed. He'd been presented with two of his closest friends, and he'd had the opportunity to stop their foolish behavior. But he hadn't. He'd just picked up his sword and fought. He'd failed his best friends, and now Iris was paying the price for his failure.

            "Iris," he said again, placing his palm on the side of her head and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

            "Zero," she whispered back, identifying him as her friend, and not her enemy. Then suddenly her eyes widened slightly and contorted with a new kind of anguish, and the look on her face was not unlike the look of absolute guilt Zero had worn at the battle's commencement. "I'm sorry," she sobbed as her eyes gushed forth fresh tears. Immediately Zero held her shaking body tightly against his chest, stroking her hair again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she repeated in the rapid whisper of one who has just done something unimaginable and wholly regretted it. "I'm so sorry," she said before finally burying her head in his chest and sobbing freely.

            "No," Zero choked out, hugging her tighter. He was crying too, he realized, and it surprised him. He was further surprised by the fact that he did not care. His head lowered and he spoke gently yet forcefully to his dearest friend. "No, don't you apologize, don't you dare apologize. This isn't your fault. This is not your fault, Iris, this is my fault…" He couldn't stop himself anymore. "I did this, I did all of this. I killed Colonel, I did this to you, and to him…don't you dare blame yourself, not for anything!" Her response was to move her head back a little and look up at him. He met her gaze, trying to convey that it was his guilt, not hers, trying to convey how sorry HE was, trying above all else to give her a reason to hang on. But they were past that, they both knew. Even if the gargoyle explosion hadn't finished her, her internal systems had suffered too much stress. They'd be failing shortly.

            She knew it, but she gave no sign that she cared. Instead she managed to wrap her arms around his waist in an embrace that was awkward until he gently propped her up somewhat, returning the embrace almost automatically. He realized quite suddenly that he wished he'd done this sooner…before the war, before all of this had started. He didn't want to let go, he wanted to hang onto her the same way she'd wanted to hang onto Colonel. If only he'd acknowledged this sooner, he thought, he might have taken her more seriously. He might have had the incentive to really, really care about her, as he did now, and none of this would have happened. He and Colonel would not have overreacted at the Sky Lagoon. He would have stopped himself before delivering the deathblow to Colonel at the Spaceport. And above all else, he would never have been forced to fight General in this astral fortress, and as such he'd never have had to do this to Iris. But it was too late, he knew, hugging her tighter without realizing it. Now he'd never have that chance, that thing he wanted more than anything else. How, he wondered, was _HE _going to survive this?

            "Zero…" She was talking again, in between her labored, weak breaths. He forced himself to release his hold on her and eased her backwards enough that they could talk face to face. "Zero…" she started again, looking him right in the eye. "Stay…stay away from Repliforce. Let…let General…"

            "Iris," he tried to break in, tried to reason with her, but found that he no longer had the heart.

            "Please…what's…so wrong about it? General…is a good man…" Her eyes then seemed to clear somewhat. "Let's live together…in a world where only Reploids exist."

            It could later be said that it was a foolish request, but Zero wasn't thinking of such things then. All he saw was the look in her eyes that told him what she wanted to hear now, finally, even if she'd had to wait to the end of her life for it.

            "Iris, there is no world just for Reploids," he said, hating the truth. "It's just a fantasy. Nothing…nothing General can do will make that change."

            A racking cough took her and Zero found himself terrified that it would sap her remaining strength here and now. Instead she recovered and looked back at him, and then at that moment revealed her hopes from the beginning. "Yes…I know, I know it…but…" She closed her eyes and forced herself to stop crying. Her eyes still watered when she opened them again, but they were no longer full of anguish or pain. Instead there was a simple desire to be understood, and even more so to be accepted by the only person who mattered to her anymore. "I wanted to believe it!" she confessed. "I wanted it to happen…I wanted you to stop fighting my brother, so he would win…and then…I wanted to live in that world, a world where only Reploids exist…" Her shaking hand came out to rest on his chest. "…with you…"

            Both his hands clasped hers within a second. "Iris…" he started, not knowing what to say. It was a hell of a revelation, but what could he say back? Well that was obvious, he realized as he held her hand tight and supported her at the same time. He'd tell the truth he'd been afraid to tell anyone else in the world. Until now. "I do too, Iris. I want that world, more than anyone would guess. With you," he added, smiling at her.

            She blinked slowly, looking right into his eyes as her own optics brightened somewhat. Then she smiled, too, the first smile that had adorned her face since Colonel's death. It was the smile of someone who finally had what they had wanted more than anything, and even if it was only for this one last second of life, it was still enough. The smile remained as Iris leaned into Zero's body gently and rested comfortably, and all her movements stopped.

            Zero felt the hand go slack and immediately examined her still frame. In the future he'd recall with the tiniest of smiles that she'd died with a smile on her face, a smile that he'd given her, rather than the look of total agony he'd originally feared…which he had also given her. For now, however, all that mattered to him was that she was dead, he had loved her and she was dead, and it was his fault. He gripped her in a viselike embrace and just held her there, not crying, not thinking, not moving, just sitting…and knowing.

            "Why?" he whispered to her unmoving body. "Why does this always happen? I can't…no matter what I do, I can never…I can't protect anyone…" He looked at her calm, peaceful face and felt himself breaking down again. Everyone who came in contact with him got hurt. Even X, he knew, had been forced to fight him once. Mea, too, all those years ago. She'd been his friend and she'd died. Gradient, crushed under a deactivated ride armor…he hadn't been able to help him, either. He couldn't save anyone. He could only hurt them, he knew as he shakily set Iris's body down on the floor. He absently thought of recovering her control chip, but he lacked both the technical know-how and the time to do that, and so he would have to leave her behind forever. Besides, he knew, it probably wasn't fair to revive her anyway. Even if she had survived this battle, Colonel's absence would have proved to be too much for her in the long run.

            The shadow surprised him. It passed through the light behind him, a tall figure with a long cape trailing in its wake. Zero stiffened, glancing to his side to see his lightsaber still resting faithfully nearby. Something in the back of his mind that he couldn't identify told him that this wasn't a part of the sequence, and that something was wrong, but he couldn't explain it to himself.

            "And once again, he proves to everyone but himself what he really is."

            Zero stood bolt upright at the sound of the familiar, scathing voice, his saber activated in his right hand and his body positioned between the intruder and Iris's dormant form. "_You!_"

            "_Me!_" Commander Sigma mocked him, crossing his arms over his chest. Silver trimmings adorned a complete set of jade armor, and the outsides of his boots were coated by leather. His head was still as bald as ever, and his blood red cape hung well down from his broad shoulders to his ankles. This was the first body of Sigma, the one that had betrayed Hunter HQ all those years back and launched the first war against the humans. "I'd ask how you're doing, Hunter, but that seems fairly self-explanatory. So, you kill women now, too?"

            Zero flew at him, swinging his sword in a rage. Sigma confounded him by dodging the attack entirely, extending his foot into the crimson Reploid's chest and spilling him backwards and onto the floor.

            The Maverick King eyed Zero with pure disgust, and when Sigma of all people was disgusted with someone, it was saying something. "And you have the gall to wonder _why_? You sit there and you whimper and you curse yourself for your violent nature, you reflect on how important reason is, and then the very next thing you do is to brandish your sword and try to take out your anger on the nearest target."

            "Shut up," Zero fairly spat, getting to his feet in a half trance. "You did this," he remembered from a future conversation…which seemed odd, since it hadn't happened yet, had it? "You manipulated Repliforce…you started everything, just so you could get Final Weapon…! You made me do it!"

            "Ah yes, let's blame Sigma for the world's ills. He does cause most of them, after all," the Maverick finished in a neutral tone. Then he gestured pointedly with his powerful fist at Iris's body. "_I _made you do that? No, Zero, that's not it, not at all," he added with a cruel chuckle. "Did I initiate the war? Yes, I did. Did I force you to fight Colonel? No, I did not. You could have used any number of other options to stall him, or to talk him out of it, in which case I would have been foiled before my plan even went into action. But you didn't, did you?" His eyes, icy cold blue orbs, pierced Zero like a sword while the Maverick's tongue lashed him like a whip. "No, you fought him, and you loved it. You fought with a swordsman every bit as skilled as yourself. It must have been a real thrill for you."

            "Silence!" Zero fairly roared, coming at Sigma again with a wild overhand chop. Sigma jumped easily to the side, watching with amusement as Zero tried to regain his foiled balance as he recovered from the attack. "You bastard, you know nothing! Nothing at all!"  
            "Oh, but don't I? For instance I know that while you fought with Colonel, nothing else mattered but the fight itself. You lost control of yourself. You fought like the monster you are. I don't blame you; Colonel was doing the same thing. But you are the one who prevailed, Zero, and the moment of victory was savory, was it not? It was, as always, the best part of your day." He had to jump aside again as Zero tried once more to dismember him, and the Maverick was laughing all the way. "Oh, Zero, stop being such a fool. You're useless when you're like this. Nothing good ever comes of your little tantrums, as Iris here so recently discovered."

            "Shut up," he seethed in a voice that trembled with hate. "It was your schemes that started this…you start everything, and wait for the world to crumble around you…!"

            "I wait for change," Sigma allowed. "But am I the one who made you kill Colonel and Iris? No. You did that on your own. You wanted to do it." He grinned at Zero's reaction to that. "You were born to fight and to kill. You acknowledge that in battle and use it to defeat all of your opponents. Even me," he admitted. "But what happens out of combat? You don't know what to do with yourself! Tell me that you don't feel uncomfortable during peacetime." That caught Zero off guard, since the point was very valid. Zero never trusted peacetime. Until now he'd assumed that it had to do with a belief that a war was coming anyway, and that he wanted to be ready for it, and peacetime dulled his skills. Did he, in fact, actually want the wars to return? Was he actually eagerly waiting for the moments when Sigma would rise again and launch new attacks? Sigma saw the look on the Hunter's face and took it for what it was. "Everyone around you suffers, as you just observed. That is because, though you try to fight your natural tendencies, you fail, and by allowing people to get close to you, you set them up for the fall that inevitably awaits them. It's really quite simple. It's a shame Iris didn't catch on—"

            This time Zero nearly got him. The lightsaber sizzled through Sigma's red cape as the Maverick leapt nimbly to the side, tearing a foot long horizontal slash through the garment. Sigma spun around this time and, moving incredibly fast for a man of his size, delivered a powerful uppercut to the raging Hunter that both dislodged the weapon from his hand and put him back on the floor, dazed.

            "I'll never understand you, boy," the Maverick King said with a shake of his head. "You yearn for an explanation as to why everyone acquainted with you winds up hurt…and then when someone tells you, you discard the information. What more do I have to do to get it through your head?"

            "You know nothing about me," Zero countered, weakly, they both thought.

            "Oh?" Sigma grinned cruelly. "I happen to know, as I told you before, that you entered this world as a Maverick, in the truest sense of the word. You were a monster then, and you're a monster now, even if you've tamed your soul ever so slightly. But you can never tame it enough. Every once in a while, the monster breaks free again. Right, Iris?" he addressed the nearby body.

            "Stop it," Zero growled, "you'd say anything, anything at all to get me to join you. I don't care what I was…the past means nothing, it cannot be changed, it means nothing!" he repeated.

            "But doesn't it! What you 'were', Zero, is what you still are! A wolf in sheep's clothing! A killer in the guise of a priest." His cold blue orbs paralyzed Zero with their fixed glare. "The past is everything!" his voice reverberated throughout the chamber. "The past controls the future…it at least controls _our _future! You will never be anything but a killer, Zero, and no one will be safe around you. Iris died because she trusted you. Sure you can throw that back at me, and I expect it of you. You discard my information not because it is false, but because I am the one giving it to you!" He gave the Hunter a mockingly sweet smile. "Would it be easier to accept if it were X telling you this? Or maybe Dr. Cain? Good old Cain, always honest and full of advice. What would he say? What would _you _say, Zero, if he told you that you were a ruthless killer, a man who eliminated an entire Hunter unit single handedly before I brought you back to the HQ? What if he told you that your creator intended you to be the plague on this Earth from the very beginning? You were built with one purpose: to kill the man who has become your best friend, and you strayed from that path, and innocents like Iris died because of it."

            "Says you," Zero said with his own head shaking. "What could you possibly know about…?"

            "Surely, Zero," Sigma went on in an eerily neutral tone. "Surely you have dreams sometimes. Surely you dream about the old man, ordering you to destroy his rival. That is your father, Zero. That is his mission for you."

            _How could you know?_ Zero's incredulous face asked. How could Sigma possibly know so much about him? Zero himself didn't know what to make of those dreams. How could Sigma…?

            "Don't believe me?" the Maverick King said in the same neutral voice. "Fine." His hand went to the clasps on his shoulder epaulets that held his cape in place. "Perhaps, then, from another?" he went on in a different voice that again set Zero bolt upright. The cape came loose and Sigma threw it across his body, discarding it as he'd done in front of X before their first battle. It flew about like a curtain in the wind, and when it passed, Sigma was gone.

            Zero stepped back in alarm. His confused eyes followed the cape as it hovered through the air seemingly of its own free will. Only, something was wrong…the cape was no longer red, it was…white?

            It wasn't even a cape, Zero saw with shock—it was a lab coat, and someone was now wearing it, an old man with wild gray hair and eyes even colder than Sigma's. His arms were locked over his chest and his coat blew with some nonexistent wind. His entire outline was bathed in light from a source Zero could not identify. Still, he knew this man, he knew from his dreams who this person was, and he knew his identity from all the history books. He'd already made the connection, but Sigma's spelling it out for him somehow carried the same shock all over again.

            "What?" Zero asked his father. "What do you want from me…?"

            "Zero…"  
            "Yes!" he said, somewhat desperately. "What do you want? Why do you keep appearing to me? What is this?!"

            The old scientist shook his head much as Sigma had done. "I'm disappointed in you, Zero. I hadn't expected it to turn out this way. I built you for one purpose, a purpose that you chose to ignore. That purpose is my life, Zero! It's all I live for! And it's all that you live for," Dr. Wily added, a bit scathingly.

            "I am a Reploid," Zero said firmly. "I will choose my own path. I am not bound to programming—"

            "Your programming is your fate!" Wily shouted. "Even humans cannot escape their fate! No one can! No one at all! To fight against fate is to doom yourself, and those around you!" The doctor's eyes narrowed at his final creation. "You are my son. You were built to defeat my nemesis, the scourge of my existence! No matter how hard you try, you cannot escape this fact. You know of whom I speak," Wily said truthfully. "You will kill him one day. Or, he will kill you. There can be no deviation from this. You cannot 'protect' anyone, my son. That was not your mission. Your mission was to destroy. Eventually you will come to understand this. Sigma can help you on this road, a road that will end in greatness for you. But if you can't bring yourself to work with Sigma, work on your own. You will do great things, my son. Fighting your fate, on the other hand, will just destroy you, as surely as it destroyed this meddling fool you claim to have loved."

            Wily's arm flicked out in Iris's direction as he finished, dismissing her as a troublemaker who'd almost succeeded in completely rerouting his son's path in life. At the same time, Iris's body burst into flames, her features melting into some freakish fire, and all identifying marks vanished.

            "Iris!" Zero cried in shock, running towards the scene but stopping when the flames blazed brighter, spreading out and drawing a circle around him, as though some god were using the place as a sketching pad with a flaming pen. Zero saw the fire around him, and while logic told him that as a Reploid he could pass right on through it without really hurting himself, some greater fear kept him rooted in place, even as Dr. Wily emerged, walking calmly and unhurt through the spreading sea of fire. The terrorist of years past eyed his masterpiece and smiled, sending chills through the Hunter's already shaking body.

            "My son," he said, appraising the Reploid like a work of art. "My greatest creation. Yes," he nodded, grinning shrewdly. "Yes, you will make the right choice. I am certain of this."

            Before Zero could protest Wily spun on his heel and walked back into the flames. Forgetting his fear Zero chased after him, running into the bright, hot field of fire and searching to no avail for the father he wished he'd never found in the first place, wondering why he wanted to find him again.

            The fire was everywhere now, Zero saw. He tried to find the empty circle where he'd begun the chase, but it was gone. He remembered where he was and tried to find the purple gate that would let him out of this hell, but it was not there. There were no walls anymore. The fire was eternal, and then to his horror he realized that it was not even red fire, but the purple inferno that had surrounded Iris and encased her in that gargoyle shroud, and now it was surrounding him, choking off his breath and bringing him to his knees.

            He was overheating, he knew, and his generator would start complaining about it soon. It seemed to be happening faster than usual, he realized as he fire gave way to darkness that he actually welcomed. His body was suddenly racked with nausea, or as close to it as a mechanical form can get. His head was spinning now, and he barely felt attached to the rest of his body.

            Then out of the blue came another explosion. It was silent, yet somehow Zero felt the shockwave. The sensation was just odd enough to chill him, and the event repeated itself again, and then one more time, before the final one hit him with real sound, and real pain.

____________________

            He was…on the floor? Yes, Zero realized, it was a floor. A hard, cold metal floor that didn't remind him at all of the Hunter medical ward. His body was slow to react to his commands, and by the time he got himself turned over sluggishly he realized that directly above him was a table of sorts attached to the wall…it must serve as a bed or something, a bed that he'd just fallen out of.

            _A dream_, he realized, though that hadn't been hard to decipher while it had been going on. A different dream, for sure, and one that he remembered every detail of. Every emotion remained in his mind, everything from the guilt to the anger, and the overall shame he'd felt after hurting those who'd trusted him. The Hunter struggled to get to his knees and off of the floor, which he deemed to be rather dusty after brushing off his face, which had touched down before the rest of him. Then he sat down on the hard, uncomfortable bed, where he had to recover some strength. What had happened to him? He didn't remember all that much, at least before his second arrival aboard Final Weapon. Actually, he'd relived the battle with Iris several times before in his sleep, but this was the first time in a long time that she had returned to haunt him. What did that mean?

            He shook his head hard to clear the remaining cobwebs and looked around at his surroundings. He was a bit surprised to learn that he was in a cage, a jail cell of sorts, complete with electrified metal bars. It was the size of a small closet, which was more than Zero could say for the tiny capsule Vile had kept him in before that fateful fight in the first uprising.

            His was the only cell in the room, which was a decent sized…what? Office? There were several tables and the chairs seemed to be a little too comfortable for the place to be an interrogation room. Also, as far as he could tell, he was alone—

            "Sleep much?" a voice finally inquired.

            Zero's head snapped to the right, where he beheld the only other man in the room, a figure from another nightmare, a figure he'd seen only three times before in his life; at a tournament tainted with blood years ago; at a quarry in weeks past during a brief yet brutal battle; and finally in the mountains where he'd come to reinforce his friends as they imported nuclear weapons into Maverick territory; a figure that was now sitting calmly in a comfortable looking chair and puffing distractedly on a pipe, of all odd things for a Reploid to do; a figure that Zero had loathed for nearly a whole decade, and they were now finally face-to-face once more. The man's eyes came up to meet Zero's, and the edges of the Maverick's mouth turned upwards in a small, emotionless smile.

            "Welcome to Seraph Castle, Zero," Malevex of Terrornova said in a neutral voice. "Here's hoping you enjoy your stay."


	31. Setting the Stage

Chapter Thirty: Setting the Stage 

            Though Zero hadn't bothered to check yet, much time had passed since his defeat in Sub-City 3. Nearly two days had come and gone, and as the cover of night fell on day two, just as Zero awoke from his involuntary slumber, Megacity 5 was bustling with activity.

            Maverick Hunter Headquarters was located near the center of the Megacity, as were most important facilities. The Council Building was a bit further down the road, the idea being that it would be spared damage when the Hunter HQ was attacked, as it always was at one point or another. The Megacity Army's main base of operations wasn't all that far from Hunter HQ, and tonight it wasn't really all that active…which only made sense, as it had devoted most of its manpower to the Hunters as they prepared for their assault. And tonight, Hunter HQ was _very _active indeed.

____________________

            "Equipment check!" Acting Commander Delates barked, moving down the lines of soldiers that composed Units 0 and 17. "This is your final chance, Hunters! Make sure you have all your gear in place!"

            "You heard the man!" Jasper said to the other soldiers in the now sizable 17th unit. "You get caught out their with your pants down, and you're dead! There ain't no starting over tonight!"

            Nearby, a smaller cluster of soldiers was going through its own ritual, which mainly involved well wishing and making sure the bloody Eagle mechas worked correctly. The 8th Unit Light Infantry, of course, did not want to have their subtle scouting efforts foiled by a malfunctioning engine. Falling from the sky like birdshit in a disabled ride armor was not their idea of a successful infiltration.

            "Give your weapons a final cleaning, and check all internal attacks," their commander ordered before she turned and walked towards another cluster of Hunters, these more superior than the others. Grand Commander Signas was moving back and forth from table to table with a smoothness that belied his leg injury, gesturing to maps and explaining one final time to the gathered Commanders the various points of the BROKEN HALO operation. Unit 8's Commander Damia squeezed in and found the only map of interest to her.

            "…and keep the bastards off Zion's back," Signas was saying to Hawkins of Unit 5. "Damia, you're still going in first," he said when he saw her. "Take the 8th around the mountain path and radio everything you find to us. Sabotage as much as you can and we'll blow the shit out of anything that remains. Link back up with us here…" He pointed to the main entry point, a clearing that would lead them right to the base of the castle. "Should be just as you remember it."

            She nodded understanding and Signas turned his attention to Commander Erich Zegmann. Damia examined the map further. It was easier said than done, she knew, but her team was the best at getting in and out of places unseen. They'd done more covert operations than any other Hunting unit, and so Unit 8 owned a fitting mystique. Still, they were going in first, which meant that they would be in a hell of a lot of risk. Seraph Castle would be expecting them, after all.

            "Once more," a new voice said, "you get to have all the fun."

            "Oh, I don't know," Damia responded with a smile, pulling away from the table. "The way X talks about it, you guys are gonna be engaging in a good bit of action."

            "Yeah, yeah, mindless action…same old, same old," Delates grinned back. "It doesn't beat the suspense of spying. Not sure anything does, as a matter of fact."

            "I'd like to hear you say that after camping out in the jungle heat for a week," replied the woman who's team had spearheaded the attack on Web Spider's base, working with X's 17th. "Who knows, Delates? Maybe if you hack off your lower legs, you might be slight and unnoticeable enough to join up."

            "That's all right," the special operations soldier replied. "This place has enough ankle-biters."

            "Ass," she retorted with a laugh. Damia herself was not exactly the tallest Reploid in the world. She stood at 5'3, which didn't qualify her as a midget but still put her below most other Reploids. She wore a suit of aqua blue armor with a black suit underneath. The beauty of the armor was that it was interchangeable—Damia had two other sets of armor that suited different environmental situations. Camouflage was her game, after all. She even dyed her reasonably short hair sometimes, which wasn't often necessary, since her natural haunting brown blended nicely with most surroundings. About the only things she never bothered to change were her eyes, which blazed a bright blue color, but any enemy who got close enough to see those eyes was already doomed. "So, why aren't you bossing around your new pets?" she went on, referring to the squads in the 17th unit that X had given Delates to work with.

            "Tyclammel took over for a while," Delates explained. "I went to triple check the plans."

            "And?"

            "And our big happy unit family is going around the side to attack Seraph Castle all at once while its main defenses are concentrated on stopping Archer, Mason, and Zion. Zegmann's people will be backing them up with heavy artillery. Taggart will start the party by sending in Ravens to bomb out some of their key defenses…you know, like machine gun encampments on the walls, missile batteries, the like. Then he'll have jets flying around the perimeter at all times with the mission to intercept one of those damned Buzzbombs if one gets off the ground."

            "Jesus," she observed, as the situation's gravity sank in again. "We still don't know where the launchers are?"

            "If they even have launchers," Delates corrected her, "we don't know where they are."

            "Great." She smiled mirthlessly at her longtime friend. "Guess it's time, then. Ready to get the bastards back?" She, too, had known Sol well, and the Hunter's death was not something she was ready to forgive the enemy for.

            "I've been ready since the beginning," Delates confirmed with his own humorless smile. "Take care of yourself out there," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

            "Just don't shoot us when we're coming back towards you," she advised and gave him a brief hug before heading off to rejoin her team. They'd been friends since the second uprising, and had come through for each other on a number of occasions, and when two people regularly saved one another's lives, friendships grew fast.

            Commander X was, for the most part, left with nothing to do. His sergeants were doing all the work of keeping his troops in line, and with the addition of Zero's soldiers the organization was all but perfect. The final equipment checks were complete, and the first teams were preparing to depart. Damia's team would start out an hour ahead of the others, and then one by one the Hunter units would, on this very night, begin the march towards Seraph Castle, where they would end this most dreadful of situations. He wondered idly what they would find when they busted into the castle. How long would it take to find Zero, if he was even there? What would they have to do in order to keep the Buzzbombs on the ground? They'd have to make sure they eliminated the Maverick leaders, X thought. People like that did not get discouraged easily. They might try something like this again, and that risk was one that couldn't be taken.

            X spied Caligula speaking with Douglas at the other side of the field where they were all assembled. He decided to clear up something that he'd been pondering for some time, and went over to greet the intelligence chief.

            "Your boys ready, X?" Douglas asked as X approached.

            "Ready as ever," the commander replied. "Any problems yet with the mobile artillery?"

            "Anything faulty has been either fixed or removed from the lineup," Douglas confirmed. "We're as ready as we're gonna be. When do we leave, exactly?"

            "Unit 8 heads out in two hours," Caligula answered with a check of his internal clock.

            "Good thing, then," Douglas nodded. "I'm going help the guys in the computer lab. Some of them haven't done this in a while."

            "You think we're ready?" X asked Caligula as Douglas disappeared into the nearest gaggle of Hunters.

            "I should be asking you that," the Invisible Man pointed out. "Though I severely doubt that any further steps could have been taken. We're as ready as we're gonna be, I'd venture to guess." He blinked, reading X's mind as he skillfully as he read the minds of everyone else he encountered. "Something you need to discuss?"

            "Just a bit of curiosity." X didn't lower his voice—the chattering crowds made it hard for anyone to eavesdrop. He did, however, check to make sure no one was all that close by. "It just seemed like this mission was one your people would want to have a hand in."

            "My good commander," Caligula replied with a raised eyebrow of caution. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."

            "Sure you don't. They didn't start you back up?"

            His head shook slowly. "They never really shut me down. Still, a mission like this is cut and dry. Ain't much surgical about it. Aegis doesn't have much use in a situation like this, so I figured I'd just leave the operatives in their respective units."

            "Mighty kind of you," X observed. "Just seemed that of all the people to send in first, they'd send Aegis."

            Caligula shrugged. "Damia's unit is the one that Aegis recruits most heavily from in the first place. They can take care of themselves. Besides…sending a lone agent into a hornet's nest at this time would do more harm than good."

            X nodded. "Just clearing the air."

            Caligula nodded in turn. "Best get back to your people. The final briefing will start soon."

            The azure Hunter found his way into the crowd, but Caligula didn't move. Instead he sipped idly at the cup of coffee he held and wondered whether or not Aegis would have worked in this scenario. Probably not, he reassured himself. Too many people would notice the absence of skilled Hunters at a time like this. No one knew what Aegis was except for the agents themselves and a few unit Commanders. Caligula figured that it was better to keep it that way. For now, anyway…

____________________

            Krysta couldn't stop herself from hating her position. Despite Vulcan's words earlier, she still didn't like the idea of staying behind in this computer room, monitoring ride armors and jets, while the other members of her unit risked their lives doing the job they had trained for. The company here sucked, too. Scythe was nearby, and he was all right, but he was very into his work, as she knew she should be. Scythe was notorious for hating computers, but he was doing his job as he should be. She should follow the example, she knew. Joe, the human technician, was seated at his designated spot, along with a number of other Reploid and human Hunters.

            Then there was Nightchaser. He'd fairly glowered at her when she'd entered the room, and she'd glowered right back. The little prick must put out a conscious effort to piss off everyone he met, she knew. Fortunately, he was at a secluded corner of the room, and no one bothered talking to him much. People didn't even look his way often. That suited Krysta just fine. Of course, no one was looking at anyone much, as they all had jobs to do, and Krysta did her job well enough, though she still didn't have to like it.

            Zegmann's would be the last unit out, she reassured herself. She could still link up with them and get to the Catskills, maybe in time to prove at least to that unit that she knew her salt.

            She of course had no idea, nor did anyone else, that she would be experiencing far more combat here at home than anyone in the Catskills.

            The reason for that was because all was not quite well inside that computer room. There was something amiss. Certain people had talked to other certain people…more specifically the Maverick Diavus had spoken to information dealer Guyver, who'd called again on the hacker within Hunter HQ. There was a job to do for his "friends". The Mavericks needed his help, the hacker knew. They were the only ones who understood him. And he understood them. He would help them, he decided. He would stop these bastard, elitist, fool Hunters in their tracks…in a way they'd never expect.

            The hacker who'd stolen the Terrornova leader list all those weeks ago began his first crisis of the day an hour before Damia's Unit 8 was to set off on its mission. He did not know himself what unit would be going when, but he knew that the attack was underway, and there were people to warn. No one was looking at him, he saw…the bastards, that was too bad for them! He typed casually, as though he were still working on the ride armor maintenance, but instead had pulled up a new menu. It was a communications channel, and he was using a private line set up by "Kujacker" using the magic of the UNDINE coding process. His eyes did not move from the screen, so he looked to be as intent on his work as everyone else was. The hacker finished his message and encrypted it skillfully and casually. He sent the message, which was soon received a ways down the road, at a building used by Maverick agents as an information center specifically for this mission.

            "They're coming," the message said. "Estimate 2 hours before first group departs."

            Satisfied, the hacker returned to the process of making sure ride armors were working properly. He'd thought about sabotaging some of them, but that might draw too much attention, and he couldn't have that, could he? One thing at a time, the hacker thought with an inner smile.    

            These bastards would regret their treatment of his people, the hacker thought. He'd lived among them long enough, and that had been an excruciatingly annoying process. Now it was time to play his final role, and escape before Commander Gredam succeeded in turning the Hunter HQ into a crater.

____________________

            The center of Megacity 5 was home to more than just military and government bases, of course. One other enterprise was the business of junk collecting. Each district of the Megacity had at least one junkyard in it, and most of them were chock full of broken or destroyed Reploids. Most of the time, dead Mavericks littered the area, as people never took the time to take them apart. Of more interest were the broken Bee Bladers and other mechaniloids that were disabled, but still repairable, which suited his purposes nicely, Tetra thought as he signed out for the night.

            A junkyard was different from a landfill. Landfills housed buried trash; junkyards housed exposed, defunct contraptions. This particular Reploid junkyard—Morph Moth had attacked this one in years past—was a prime source of materials for Tetra's cause. He waved to his coworkers as he headed for his truck. He had this one more shipment to make and he could go home for the night. Every once in a while, Reploid part manufacturers purchased defunct machines to melt down and reuse. Tetra was in charge of taking the big truck to the proper people, who would unload the cargo and send the check to the junkyard.

            However, as usual, Tetra made one extra stop on his midnight route. It was a large garage that belonged to a housing project, one that was now curiously empty. Its proximity to the Hunter Headquarters made it somewhat undesirable to its former inhabitants, and it was scheduled for demolition. For the moment, however, it had temporary occupants, and they were very grateful for Tetra's deliveries, which had become more frequent in recent months.

            The Reploid parked the truck inside the shaded garage and disembarked quickly. As expected, the usual crew rushed to help him unload the important cargo. Tetra always made a point to store his "expendable" cargo at the back of the truck so it could be easily unloaded without having to weed through all the junk that the Mavericks wouldn't want.

            Tetra had been a soldier in the tank brigade of the Megacity Army when it used to draw heavily on Reploid recruits. His loathing for the humans began when a tank malfunctioned and was unable to support a team under fire from Repliforce personnel. One of Tetra's best friends, another Reploid, had piloted that tank, and he was later accused of sabotaging it himself in order to let Repliforce finish the job. He was court marshaled as an enemy spy and executed without proper evidence, Tetra thought. From there on he'd hated the human authority, and after he'd left the army he'd taken this meager junkyard job at the urging of his Maverick case officer. He'd been bringing the Mavericks bits and pieces of machines for almost a year now, and while he imagined that they used the parts to reassemble war machines, he didn't know where they stored the parts.

            Something was different tonight, he noticed. The Mavericks were not bothering to unload the truck. Instead, they actually hopped inside and hid inside some of the trash. Another Reploid emerged from the shadows, a tall, lanky stag beetle that Tetra had heard about but never before seen.

            "You are the one who brings us these gifts all the time?" Boomer Kuwangner rasped, chilling Tetra, who recovered quickly enough.

            "That's me. You must be…"

            "Boomer Kuwangner," the Maverick replied, opening the passenger door and getting inside. Tetra took the hint and got back behind the driver's wheel. "I'm the one who recruited you, Mr. Tetra. It's nice to see that you stuck with us."

            "My pleasure, boss," Tetra said as he started the engine. "Where we going with this stuff?"

            "Get on the road," Kuwangner replied simply. "I'll tell you where to turn. Tonight's mission is a little different."

            _Mission? _"Something up?" The truck was backing out onto the road now, turning out onto the highway at Kuwangner's command.

            "You might say that," the eerie Maverick replied. "Tell me, Mr. Tetra, would you like to see what has happened to all those bits and pieces that you so kindly brought to us?"

            The voice was really creeping him out, Tetra thought. "I sure would. I imagine you've just been repairing them?"

            "Indeed," Boomer replied, gesturing for a right turn.

            Ten minutes later they had entered a series of warehouses owned but poorly managed by the government. Kuwangner had Tetra park the truck inside a certain garage and the Mavericks sprung out of the top. Both Tetra and Kuwangner hopped out and observed their new surroundings.

            "This way," the beetle hissed to Tetra, who followed wordlessly.

            The warehouse they entered wasn't all that large, but inner contents took Tetra's breath away.

            There they were. Crummy looking, for sure, but they were still there, and they had all been built from the parts Tetra had provided. A full row of Bee Blader hovercopters. Another full row of the miniature tanks commonly used by today's armed forces. There was even a single real tank, one that resembled Tetra's personal mount from back in his army days. He already could picture all the poor bastards that could get mown down by those big treads. There were also two full rows of reassembled ride armors and hovercycles, and the rest of the room was occupied by a veritable swarm of mechaniloid drones. The Mavericks had assembled a small army in this warehouse so close to the center of the city, and all the power located there. They could launch an attack on the Council Building, perhaps, and certainly on the Megacity Army base. They might even take Hunter Headquarters…but only if the base became for some reason deserted of most of its personnel, of course, and really, Tetra knew, what was the likelihood of _that_?

            "You did all this…?" the former tank driver asked.

            Kuwangner nodded absently. "It was not difficult. We had the men for it. All we needed was the material. You proved most useful to us, but your mission, as far as this is concerned, is now over."

            Tetra turned to him and blinked. "I have no desire to return to the path of the straight and narrow. If my purpose here is served, there has to be something else I can do for you."

            "Indeed, there may be…" The Maverick Boss looked hard at the large, full-sized military tank that he'd secured from Alden Base with Cassius's help. "I understand that you used to be a soldier."

            "Tank driver," Tetra clarified. "And a decent soldier, now that I think about it."

            "Hmm…" Kuwangner mused for a few seconds before pointing to the tank. "Could you drive that?"

            "Could I?" Tetra laughed. "I could drive one of those things one-handed and blindfolded."

            "We do not expect such handicaps for you," was Kuwangner's mild attempt at humor, "but if you can do the job…?"

            "I'd be happy. What's the target?"

            "Maverick Hunter Headquarters."

            _Jesus_, Tetra thought. This was big time shit. They really _were _building an army, weren't they? "Tonight?"

            "Yes," Kuwangner confirmed, "tonight. More specifically tomorrow morning. By the time the sun rises, everything will be in motion. You have that long to familiarize yourself with those controls."

            "No problemo," Tetra assured him with a grin. "You don't just forget shit like driving a tank, partner."

            "Indeed…" Kuwangner glanced around one final time, pleased with the project. It had worked out better than his last venture, he thought, even if he had managed to bag Zero. Stupid move by the boss, he thought. They could have killed the crimson bastard right there and spared them all a lot of trouble. Well, at least he'd been able to kill a human or two, the brutal Maverick thought with a grin that was hidden behind his facemask. No wound gushed blood quite like a slit throat, as poor Kim had learned in her final moments. He knew her name only because that repulsive friend of hers kept shouting it out. Foolish humans. Death, after all, was a part of life, something humans claimed to value. As far as Boomer was concerned…well, there was nothing wrong with speeding up the process a little.

            For Tetra, the entire situation was a little stunning. An hour ago he'd been doing his job as regularly as any other night, and now he was about to drive a tank into the Hunters' backyard. Good, he thought. He'd had enough of sitting on the sidelines. It was time to pay the humans back for what they'd done to his friend, and to Tetra himself. If their protectors got in the way, well…once again, Tetra pictured all the poor bastards he'd mow down with those treads.

            "We're checking the equipment," Kuwangner announced. "Get used to the tank. We move on Hunter Headquarters when we get the cue."

            "How will we know what that is?" Tetra asked before he got moving. "I mean…we're all the way out here. What's to say we won't miss it?"

            Boomer Kuwangner's eyes did the smiling for him, and it was absolutely ghoulish. "Believe me, my comrade. This is one cue that will be impossible to ignore."

____________________

            A few miles from Kuwangner's base of operations, the guard was changing at Alden Base. Tony Jones had enlisted the help of an Army night crew that specialized in security measures. There would be no more incidents like with the Marauder, which still frightened Colonel Jones more than a little. That thing was an absolute monster, and the thought of it in Maverick hands…well, it wasn't something that allowed for peaceful slumber.

            "Quiet night," Jones observed to Cassius, inside the base command center.

            "It is," the wild-haired Reploid replied, shutting down his network for the night. "Expecting something to happen?"

            The colonel frowned and shrugged. "It would have to be now, wouldn't it? The Hunters are on the move, and the Mavvies are gonna know it." He glanced one more time out the window before heading for the door. "Make sure the security teams stay alert."

            "You got it, sir," Cassius affirmed, and then Jones was gone. Humans had to sleep, the Reploid knew. They were no good without rest, though Jones would probably be hard pressed to get to sleep on a night this suspenseful. Cassius could hardly blame him. He was nervous too, though for an entirely different reason.

            Cassius was about to leave the command center himself when the beeping stopped him cold. It was his pager, he knew, his internal communicator. It was set for only one frequency, and its activation told Cassius all he needed to know: It was time.

            Still, he had to confirm it. He was the only one left in the room, and the security cameras had a blind spot right underneath them. Cassius waited for the camera in the right corner to tilt in the proper direction and he slipped right under it. Here he activated his communicator—the cameras did not have sound receptors—and called the proper frequency.

            "Is this about the suit?" Cassius asked of the faraway voice.

            "Yes, Mr. Cassius," Boomer Kuwangner replied from the other end. "It is ready for pickup."

            "Thank you," he said, and the connection broke. Hoo, boy. It was happening tonight…probably more towards the morning, he realized. Finally it was all going to come together. This made him more than a little nervous, since Cassius, like most of the Mavericks, did not know where exactly Commander Gredam was going to direct his nukes. Hunter HQ was a no-brainer, but he had to have more than one at his disposal, didn't he? And Alden Base was certainly on the target list. But that wouldn't matter, he told himself. He would do his job and leave the premises, and that would neutralize Alden Base's capabilities and allow him to slip into anonymity.

            Cassius produced a chaff grenade from an armor compartment and set it down behind him, right at the corner of the wall. He pulled the pin and jumped at the bang, and immediately darted towards his personal workstation. He reactivated it, wishing that he hadn't just shut it down. He used the painstaking seconds while the cameras tried to refocus to stretch up to one camera and pull out the power cable, praying also that the chaff wouldn't mess up the computer system. It didn't really matter except to load up. Once Cassius inserted his disc, chaff wouldn't matter. The disc's designer—Cyber Peacock, AKA Kujacker—had created the perfect program. Once Tony Jones attempted to activate Alden Base's remaining forces to move against the Mavericks, this virus would cause the machines to go haywire, creating a disturbance in Alden Base that would draw all of Jones's attention, effectively neutralizing Alden Base's usefulness. It was a nice plan, if Cassius could only pull it off.

            There. The computer loaded and Cassius immediately inserted the disc, opened the "Run" menu, and typed the proper code. Then he waited again for the precious few seconds that would allow the program to run in its entirety, and finally—it seemed so long—he removed the disc and stowed it back in his armor. He shut down his computer regularly but left the room before it finished, first collecting the pieces of the chaff grenade, and then heading as calmly as he could manage to the nearby officer's lounge. Cassius wasn't really an officer but he did pull some weight. Fortunately no one was inside except a major Cassius knew by reputation only. They nodded to each other but didn't speak, as Cassius poured himself a cup of coffee. Somehow he managed to keep his hands from shaking.

            The men monitoring the security cameras were of course alarmed by the sudden deactivation of the cameras inside the command center, and they mobilized on the double. However, all they found upon entering was a quiet, dark room with functioning cameras…though one seemed to have a disconnected cable. That must be the problem, one man thought, reattaching the cable. The camera worked good as new. Just a maintenance problem, the security men thought with disdain, but just to make sure they checked the nearby offices. They found Major Bellman and that Cassius Reploid inside the officer's lounge, and a few secretaries in the other nearby areas, but other than that the command building was clean. No one raised any alarms. Cassius was in here all the time, and was just having a cup of coffee. Bellman often stayed late, and why would a human try to sabotage the base?

            Nope, just a maintenance problem, the three-man security team decided as they headed back to their posts. They were more worried about an attack from the outside, Cassius thought as he bid good night to Bellman and headed outside. They didn't really consider an attack from the inside. As he walked to the front gate, he stopped and moved behind a warehouse that he often examined as part of his routine daily inspections. No one inside thought it odd that he should show up nearby, and he nodded and smiled to the security officers as he passed them. Inside the warehouse he casually made sure no one was watching and retrieved a set of papers from a cleverly hidden shelf behind some ammo crates. The papers were supply collection orders signed by Colonel Jones himself…actually Cassius had signed them, but his forgery skills were top notch, and the guards wouldn't examine it all that closely, he knew.

            He was right. The guard at the gate saw the signature, saw that it looked like the signature he'd been told to memorize, and waved Cassius through, warning him to be slow when he returned to the base. It wouldn't do to go startling the guards now, would it?

            No, it would not, he thought as he climbed into the official jeep and drove off into the night. Goodbye to Alden Base, he thought, and to this chapter in his life. He'd done his part in the effort to save his people, he thought. Now the rest was up to those with slightly more power at their disposal.

____________________

            Isoc was getting anxious. He hadn't done this in quite some time, and the pressure was something he hadn't been prepared for. The scientist Reploid went over the maps one final time, comparing that data to the mission orders he was about to send to the two squads of Investigators, both in very different places, and both with very different missions.

            Isoc confirmed the coordinates and ran the program through his computer this last time to check for errors. Nothing wrong, he saw with relief. At least, nothing that a computer could catch, and since Isoc himself was a computer, he figured that he couldn't do any better.

            "Relax, partner," Gate said calmly as he approached his associate to collect the revised mission orders. "They already know most of what they're doing."

            Isoc frowned, but nodded. "I'm more worried about the Brazilians than anything else. What is their situation?"

            "I received reports from their army," Gate explained. "All they need is my signal, which Commander Yammark will provide. Then…" He had to grin at this one. "Well, the Mavericks will learn a thing or two about proper military strength. It's a shame that the Megacity forces don't have that kind of firepower—" He stopped, catching himself. "Well…you know what I mean."

            Isoc nodded, but was still frowning. Weapons of any sort precluded war in each and every incidence, and he was quite glad that the Megacity System did not have the weapons needed to make it into a military giant. "Do you foresee any problems?"

            Gate emitted a nearly inaudible sigh. He'd met Isoc years ago, and the two found that their ideologies were nearly identical. Isoc was also older than Gate, and his increased experience with the world made him a valuable partner. Some found it odd that Gate even wanted a partner, but those were the ones who expected Gate to make some move for power, and power was something he didn't want. Well, he admitted, the power to bring everyone around to the utopian world he'd pictured for years would be nice, he thought. But how was that different from tyranny? He didn't know, he decided, so it probably wasn't worth caring about. Isoc himself was another who could care less about personal power. He'd seen enough evil in the world and his only goal now was to correct it. Still, for all Isoc's intelligence and his skill in managing the Investigators, the man could be such a damned worrywart.

            "Of course I foresee problems," Gate answered. "Anything that can go wrong will. We've allowed for everything we can…now it's just a matter of letting random chance run its course."

            Isoc absorbed this and nodded again. "As you say. They'll be moving soon, you know."

            Gate nodded in turn and accepted the sheets of paper Isoc offered him. He scanned the data and nodded again, heading back to his mainframe, where he loaded a copy of the orders and sent them to their respected owners. "Investigators," the first line read, "the time has come. UNDINE team, move into position."

____________________

            Blaze Heatnix, Blizzard Wolfang, and Ground Scarabich received the message directly into their CPUs. They unhooked themselves immediately from the chargers they'd been using to keep themselves at full capacity and boarded the vehicle waiting for them. They were to infiltrate the Catskills alone and link up with the Hunters upon their arrival, after which they would attack UNDINE and recover the proper information. All three were pumped and ready. All they had to do now, ironically, was wait. Then the transport would drop them off at the appointed place and into the mountains they'd go. Seraph Castle would never know what hit it, they were all sure.

____________________

            "It's a shame about the Hunters you lost at the quarry," Malevex was saying, still in that damnably neutral tone of voice. "We'd assumed that you'd be better organized."

            "Was that your idea of courtesy?" Zero asked coldly, rubbing at his temple. He was still groggy, and in a state of extreme lethargy. Whatever the Mavericks had shot him with back at Sub-City 3 was still taking its toll.

            This invoked a shrug. "Merely a gesture for the Reploids involved. We needed you there for the confusion, you see, though killing Reploids at any time is undesirable." A line from The Great Maverick Creed.

            Zero blinked at his apparent host, analyzing his face and coming to a decision fast. "That's horseshit, and you don't believe it any more than I do."

            The Maverick smiled faintly, lowering the curved wooden pipe from his lips. In the moment he reminded Zero of some English detective sitting in Scotland Yard observing a notorious criminal behind bars. "And I'm sure you've heard that litany a hundred times."

            "At least," Zero agreed, still trying to focus himself. There was a lot to focus, after all. He worked on converting all the emotion from the dream he'd just had into antipathy for Malevex, and the people he represented. It wasn't a difficult task. "Always it signifies the new King Shit, the new asshole with a gun who wants to make people give him what he wants by throwing a squad of thieves and killers at society and calling it a 'revolution'."

            "Is that what you think?" the Maverick asked with an amused grin. "Well how about that. You're just as cynical as the rest of us."

            "War does that," Zero explained in a monotone similar to his host's. "War after war after war with 'the rest of you'. And now you bastards want to nuke half the city into oblivion. Well that's just great," he finished, stopping to catch his breath. Even his respirators seemed to be on low-speed.

            "Half the city?" Malevex leaned back in his chair. "That's a bit of an overstatement."

            "What does it matter?" Zero's eyes narrowed. He hated this game, and wouldn't play it on a normal occasion, especially given his sluggish mental state. However he didn't know if he'd get to see this man again, and there were things he wanted to say. "One nuke will be enough. All nukes carry radiation. That can kill a city as easily as a blast can."

            "Buzzbomb radiation outputs are remarkably mild," the Maverick pointed out, somewhat distantly. "I'd say that your pet humans won't have a lot to worry about, after the fact. Not that I'd care much otherwise, of course."

            "That's right," Zero recalled the conversation with Mortar. "You and your vengeance. You killed those army men?"

            "Thornton and Komanov?" The Maverick waved them off. "Don't concern yourself with those murderers. Nothing happened to them that they didn't deserve."

            "That's an interesting statement," the Hunter said, sinking in the barb, "coming from you."

            This time he showed emotion. Fury blazed behind his eyes for a brief second before he controlled himself, remarkably fast, Zero thought, considering the nature—and relative unfairness—of the statement. Malevex inhaled from the pipe again, calming himself further as he did so. "I don't much blame you for hating me, Hunter. Though at least hate me for the right reason. If you hate me because I'm planning a nuclear raid, fine. If you're hating me for shooting your friend in her head, get your priorities straight." His eyes narrowed. "The men who truly killed your friend are already dead. We took care of that problem for you."

            Zero had to admit that the Maverick's barb was worse than his own. "Don't give me that. You could have walked away from them at any time—"

            "Sure I could have," Malevex snapped, nearly losing his temper again. "I could have walked away and joined the Mavericks. Because I sure as hell couldn't go to the Hunters. That would have solved a lot, eh?" The pipe went up again and the Maverick went on, actually laughing lightly. "Yes, I could have walked away, and lived the rest of my life knowing that my own cowardly act resulted in a prolonged session of agony for the only friends I've ever had."

            "You could have found help," Zero persisted, losing his own temper. He'd gone years without venting his fury over Mea's death, and here at last was his chance. "There were people who would join you in a heartbeat. You could have busted all of them out. Instead you just kept on killing. _That _was your cowardly act, you bastard! It was so much easier to just kill people, and transfer the pain to others rather than facing it your own goddamned self! God knows who else you killed, besides Mea, and all so you and your fellow terrorists wouldn't get rapped on the knuckles by your teachers."

            At this Malevex nearly jumped from his chair, produced the revolver in his pocket, and showed Zero what a kneecapping felt like. However he decided, with incredible amounts of professional self-restraint, any attack on this prized prisoner wouldn't sit well with Gredam, who couldn't well risk a change in plans at this point. Instead he very slowly inhaled from the pipe again, his personal method of relaxation for years, though he still couldn't explain it to himself, as smoke had no effect on him. He raised his eyes to his prisoner as he let the smoke flow from his slightly parted lips. He knew a thing or two about Zero's past, and he decided here and now that the Hunter would not get away with his comment. He selected the most venomous barb from Zero's life and moved to strike.

            "Restraint…?" the Maverick said in a very quiet tone of voice that had his prisoner's attention immediately. "Is that it, Zero? Restraint? Should I have ignored those innocent people, like I wanted to with all my heart, and returned to face the music like a man, or something like that? Should I have put down my sword and my sniper rifle and worked for a peaceful solution?" He spat at the floor near Zero's feet. "My cowardly act! I saved the lives of the only people who mattered a damn to me. Which is more than you could do," he added in a sickeningly nonchalant manner.

            Indeed, it was a most venomous barb. Instead of the fury that might have taken him, though, Zero blinked once at the full impact of the words, even before it had all sunk in. _More than I could…_ He was right, Zero realized, actually feeling his already weakened body deflate further. He sank back against the wall in a bit of shock. Malevex, seeing this, was encouraged, and went on, driving the spike as far in as he could.

            "Fighting is easy for you, isn't it?" the Maverick asked with genuine spite. "It's the restraint that comes hard. Was it restraint you showed when you cut Colonel down like a dog? I don't recall you putting down your sword. He had a sister, didn't he? I know you killed her, too. How did you let that happen?" He shook his head in wonderment. "How can you love someone and then kill them?" He didn't know if it was love, in fact. All he had to go on was Sigma's eyewitness account, told to them months ago when the Maverick was still in power. "Oh, I bet you're sorry," he went on quietly. "I bet you're sorrier for that than for anything.

            "But me?" he leaned forward, puffing the pipe once more with a more neutral face. He had to relax, he thought. He'd done the damage, and he was satisfied with the pain he'd inflicted…perhaps even slightly ashamed of it, he thought as he saw the look on Zero's face. The Hunter couldn't possibly have known the rage his words would have awakened in the former assassin, but Malevex's own words had been fully intended to crush his visitor's spirit. At least he had Zero's attention now. "Me, I'm not sorry. I made the right choice and I'm glad for it. Of course I regret killing your friend," he added, again genuinely, though it would probably be lost on Zero, who had come out of his shock somewhat and was paying more attention to Malevex's words. "But I wouldn't change my decision at all. You know who's in this castle with me, Zero?"

            "Mortar," the Hunter supposed, thinking back, glad to think about anything but the great guilt the Maverick had just instilled in him. "And someone named Gredam's in charge."

            "There's another," Malevex informed him. "Her name is Teytha." Smoke flowed from his mouth again as he dredged up the proper details from the darker parts of his memory. "She and I were sent on a particular mission together, a few months before I was sent after Mea," he remembered the name. "The target was a young Reploid Hunter who was too zealous for his own good, or at least, that was how Komanov saw it. The attack was supposed to take place in a wooded area, near Yates Forest."

            "Sturmond!" Zero realized. "The target was Sturmond! He'd reported the attack, though he came out of it unscathed."

            "Yes," Malevex agreed gloomily, "I suppose he did. Teytha's role in the mission went off without a hitch. She was to seed the road with mines and escape into the trees, while I sniped any survivors. Random chance, however, is often unkind. Your friend Sturmond's jeep malfunctioned on the road in, sparing it the mine damage. I was not equipped to take out Sturmond and his four comrades. A snipe shot would kill the target, but escape for Teytha and myself would have been very hairy. So…I aborted rather than risk our lives. The attack your friend reported was when one of his clumsy comrades stepped on one of Teytha's mines. You see, she'd done her job perfectly. I'm the one who failed.

            "But yet, when we returned to base, Komanov did not see fit to just punish me for my caution. Because I spared the enemy, I had to watch Teytha…" He stopped, actually shivering. "You know what a 'Surger' is?"

            Zero felt his contempt for the Terrornova assassins melt somewhat into actual pity. A Surger was the common name for a device meant to magnify electric impulses in an object, usually for use in recharging blown fuses. Use on a Reploid was possible, only the effects were fatal if prolonged, and for any shorter period of time it was easily the worst pain most Reploids would ever feel. Vile's cages in the first uprising used Surger technology in the bars. Zero had grabbed them once. After that he'd been absolutely paranoid in his efforts to remain in the exact center of the cage, as far from the bars as was possible. "You can't be serious…"

            A laugh. "Komanov did not take defeat well. We all paid the price, because I decided not to shoot." Again, the eyes narrowed, and Malevex continued in a voice that was difficult to analyze. "What would you have done, Hunter, if it had been Iris?"

            Again Zero recoiled, knowing full well how cowed he'd have been if it would have been Iris.

            "Would you have 'put down your sword'?" Malevex went on, making his point and knowing it. "Would you have been reluctant to continue on your murderous missions? No, you would not. You would shoot every further target right in the head, twice, just to make sure. You would do everything in your power to make sure that the incident never happened again. And then you had to hope that your comrades took the same attitude, or you would be punished for their mistakes. No, Zero, there was no room for mercy. There was only room for protecting the only things that mattered to you. Thornton and Komanov have paid their dues. Now the rest of the bastards will face the music."

            It was quiet after that. Zero sat still, back against the wall, absorbing everything despite the protests of his exhausted CPU. Malevex waited a minute, using the time to shove his own demons back in the boxes he'd removed them from. It had been years since he'd thought about the Surgers. Such thoughts belonged behind barriers, Malevex believed. Perhaps he'd face them someday but for now he found that he did just fine keeping the thoughts at bay. The Maverick then put out his pipe and stood, heading for the door to leave Zero alone with his thoughts.

            "All this?" the Hunter's voice asked the Maverick's back. "All this carnage, even nuclear attacks, just so you can have your revenge?"

            Malevex turned, and his face was unreadable again. "The objective isn't revenge, Hunter. It's security." At the confusion on Zero's face the Maverick continued on. "Gredam, Teytha, Mortar and I cannot live in the Megacity System while certain people still live. The fear of discovery would remain constant, and how can you call yourself free if you're still living in oppression? Once these people are gone, only then will we be safe."

            "You'd drop a nuke just to feel warm and cushy? I don't imagine you care…but that's selfish as hell."

            A shrug. "After what they did to me, humans are as expendable to me as us Mavericks are to you. I'm talking about my own objective here. Gredam may really want to save the Reploid people, or something idealistic like that. All I care about, though, is living free...more specifically, making sure my comrades can live free. If I die, then I'll die making that a reality. If I have to live with the image of Teytha in agony on a Surger, then I'll make damn sure I die with the image of her safe and well and free, and to hell with anything that gets in the way," he declared, unaware of how much he was reminding Zero of himself, at a certain moment that the Hunter had recently subconsciously revisited. "For soldiers like us, or X, or Gredam, or even Sigma, there's only two real decisions to make. One is, what is your objective? And two, how many people are you willing to kill to achieve it?"

            And then, realization happened. Zero blinked slowly as a geyser of dread erupted in his stomach and crept upwards. "And for this objective…the safety of your…comrades. How many…are you willing to kill?"

            Malevex took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sizing Zero up and conveying that he didn't care much for the methods, but hated the opposition enough that nothing seemed too severe for them. Zero sat in quiet alarm, knowing the answer already.

            "Anyone and everyone," the Maverick finally said quietly. Then he turned and left Zero to vegetate in his pool of dread.


	32. Battle March

Chapter 31: Battle March 

"Seems pretty smooth, _jefe_," Manny Rodriguez said, looking over the map one more time and nodding his approval.

            "That's the idea," Commander Yammark agreed. "The Brazilian jets will do most of the work. All we have to do is move in and clean up afterwards. Manny, bring your boys in from the east. Julio, come in from the west. _Comprende?_"

            "_Si, jefe,_" Julio Gomez responded. "It's not a problem, boss. Manny and I will meet up in the middle of the site, and see if we can't bag us some prize prisoners."

            Yammark nodded. "I'd like to hear what our friend Split Mushroom has to say for himself. Whatever they're up to down here, it smells of something more than just a base camp."

            "Yeah," Rodriguez agreed. "These guys definitely did not expect to be found. We ID'd 'em totally by accident, remember?"

            "Good thing we did," Gomez observed. "So, who are our primary targets?"

            "Mushroom, of course." Yammark produced a picture and placed it on the map before his two comrades. The picture showed a tall, well built green Reploid. They both recognized him immediately as the one who'd caught the dragonfly drone during their last encounter. "We've also identified this man. His actual name is Ix-8, but everyone calls him 'The Breaker'. Frankly, I can't blame them," Yammark added, looking at the overabundance of metal muscle on the robot in the picture.

            "How'd you figure that out?" Gomez queried, looking over the man in the picture and memorizing his target's appearance.

            "Our employer has many friends," Yammark replied simply. "It wasn't that difficult. Good as this man is, he like everyone must leave a paper trail at some point. He's not a professional intelligence officer, so he never adapted the 'total secrecy' attitude that those fellows carry with them. He is, however, involved in more illegal deeds than legal ones, so he does know how to keep a low profile. I'd like to know how he got mixed up with the Mavericks. Money, I'm sure, but maybe there was something else."

            "We'll find out," Rodriguez promised. "We'll get the bastard alive. He'll sing like a canary…they all do, especially these mercenary types. They aren't loyal to nobody but themselves. Anything for a lesser sentence, you know?"

            "What if this Breaker or his Mushroom boss gets killed before we can get to them?" Gomez asked.

            "Tough, I suppose," Yammark replied with a shrug. "It would be _nice _to take them alive. Nice does not mean necessary. Do what you can, gentlemen, but don't try to work miracles."

            "Got it," Gomez said, yawning. He checked his watch, noting the late hour. They would be on the move shortly, but all preparations were completed.

            Yammark took the look on Gomez's face for what it was. "Get some rest. The army should be contacting us shortly, and Gate soon after that. Figure four hours? I'll recharge and stand by." Recharging would only take him an hour, he supposed, and there was no way the order would get here that soon. This was not a time for haste, after all. You wanted to take time to make sure that everything went correctly.

            Satisfied with the meeting, Commander Yammark dismissed his two squad leaders and headed into the shoddy concrete structure that housed the Reploid recharging bays, in addition to the many computers that kept Gate's Brazilian camp running smoothly. Several such computers controlled the recharging bays. Upon passing one of them, Yammark noted one scientist still at work, typing busily away.

            "Don't you people ever sleep?" Yammark asked with a yawn. "It's gonna be a long day, Manolin. Don't burn yourself out now."

            "Oh believe me," the scientist Reploid replied with a chuckle, "I'll be unconscious shortly enough, in bed or out of it." He motioned to the screen before him, and to the recharging bays to his right. "There was a slight problem with the startup program. The boss sent me in to fix it. I'll be done in a jif, Commander, and I promise I won't make all that much noise."

            "Yeah," the dragonfly Reploid's voice carried the essence of a grin. "Us soldiers need our beauty sleep before we head off to kill people." He started for one of the rechargers. "It's crap, Manolin. We came here to study the forest, but even here we gotta put up with this Maverick bullshit."

            "It is unfortunate," the scientist agreed, watching Yammark climb awkwardly into the capsule-shaped recharging bay. The dragonfly's hands were mere prongs, making it difficult for him to get a good grip. Therefore, he hovered in the air and gradually descended into the chamber. Manolin turned back to the computer screen. "Good luck tonight, my friend."

            "Thank you," the dragonfly replied, allowing his systems to submit to the recharger's programs. "We will end this as quickly as we can."

            "Yes," Manolin agreed quietly, after Yammark slipped into inactivity, "we will end this, as quickly as we can." It irked the scientist that the whole Maverick charade was still in effect. Tonight's target was Gate's illegal base, and they were going to wipe it off the face of the earth to prevent that scientist/politician from his own illegal activity. It wasn't right, Manolin knew. Gate had betrayed them all. He'd seen the evidence. It couldn't have been fabricated, could it? No, that man had been a believer, a true believer, and Manolin knew one of those when he saw one. That man had given him all the evidence he'd needed…and the means to fight back.

            He couldn't stop the air strikes. That he knew and accepted. But he could still stop Yammark from coordinating the ground attack, and that would complicate things, wouldn't it? It would be so easy, he thought, to kill the dragonfly in his sleep, right here, right now, and put a halt to the entire operation. But, no, he decided, killing wasn't his role. He was a scientist…a _biologist_. He studied life…he didn't destroy it. Reploids were not life forms per se, being mechanical in every way. Still, most people thought of them as being alive, Manolin included, though perhaps being a Reploid himself made him a bit biased. What was life, anyway? The state of awareness? If so, then he was as alive as any human. Was it something deeper? Did it matter? No, it did not, he decided, producing the Breaker's floppy disc and quickly inserting it into the proper drive. This was a safer method, one that would leave no ties to him personally. Yammark would not be able to fly, and that would effectively paralyze him. That was the plan, anyway. All he could do was play his role, which he did, opening a line to Yammark's CPU and calling up the contents of the disc. He'd studied the program to make damned sure he knew what it was. It wouldn't do to infect Yammark with the Maverick Virus. The Breaker hadn't lied, Manolin had learned—the disc contained a simple program that would block Yammark's flight capabilities until the proper counter virus was installed, and by then it would be too late, Manolin was sure. The scientist took a slow breath and uploaded the program, sending it through the recharging bay into Commander Yammark's vulnerable CPU, where it nestled itself away and waited for the Reploid's wings to get the command to start. That would be the virus's cue to take action, and Yammark would be grounded.

            Manolin let out his breath just as slowly as he'd taken it in, realizing that he'd done it, and no one had seen him. It was time to get away, he knew. He removed the floppy disc from the drive and casually slipped it back in the pocket of his lab coat. He'd destroy it as soon as he got back to his quarters, he knew. He couldn't keep anything that might tie him to this incident. Sure, Yammark might remember seeing him at the mainframe, but simple suspicion wasn't enough for an accusation, and Yammark would know it. Manolin was effectively safe from all repercussions.

            The scientist left the concrete building and looked out at the trees in the distance. The Fauna program would save them, he hoped. Somehow they would find a way to keep all those trees alive, and if that required extensive measures like this one, well, that was the price that had to be paid. Manolin and his colleagues still knew what was important…even if Gate didn't.

***

            He'd forgotten how great this was. The big tank hummed and came to life at Tetra's command, and the Reploid's command was a very skillful one at that. The former tank driver had quickly reoriented himself with the tank controls, and while he didn't dare to move the behemoth machine around inside this hangar, with all the other Maverick machines laying around, he knew it would function just fine when the time came. Satisfied, the new Maverick powered down the mobile monster and opened the top hatch.

            "You are able to manage?" Boomer Kuwangner rasped when Tetra disembarked.

            "It's a piece of cake!" the Reploid declared, brushing off his hands and grinning like a kid at Christmas. "It ain't like I forgot everything, y'know? It's really pretty simple when you get down to it."

            "I'm glad you are pleased," Kuwangner said in what passed for dryness. "Is it possible to train others…?"

            Tetra blinked. "Of course, partner, but…you got the other tanks?"

            "We will," Boomer replied simply. He looked to the row of Bee Bladers and the additional rows of mini-tanks and ride armors. "Our first objective is to attack the Megacity Army at their nearby base. Most of their assets will be gone," he added, noting the skepticism on Tetra's face. "They've donated most of their heavy artillery to the Hunters."

            "What about Alden Base?" Tetra pointed out. "They can send reinforcements."

            "We will plan for that," Kuwangner acknowledged. "However, at the moment we believe that Alden Base will not be a threat." That was thanks to Cassius, a Reploid Tetra didn't know. "They may have tanks left over."

            "Oh, jeez," Tetra observed. "You wanna pull a hit and run?"

            "Yes, I believe that is the phrase…only, we will 'run' in their own tanks, if we can. We need all the firepower we can get," the career Maverick pointed out.

            Tetra considered this and nodded. "If you've got a few guys, I can train them right now. That way, they can just jump aboard the tanks when the time comes. But, uh, can I just ask one question?"

            "Of course," Kuwangner responded absently, scanning the small crowd of Mavericks for the tank pilots he had in mind.

            "How exactly do you plan on defeating the Hunters?" Immediately he felt awkward. Kuwangner turned and fixed him with a curious look. "Well," Tetra went on, explaining himself, "you know, even with tanks and all that, the Hunters can give us a run for our money."

            The lanky stag beetle continued to stare before he remembered that he hadn't actually briefed Tetra on the full mission yet. This was worth a chuckle, a thoroughly horrible sound, Tetra thought, coming from this rasping insect Reploid. "The Maverick Hunters," Boomer explained, "have another engagement tonight. I do not expect that they will be out long, which is why we must strike fast…but yes," the Maverick nodded, and the curved blades on his head gleamed as they caught the ceiling lights, "we will have a brief time window when the Hunter Headquarters is very, very vulnerable."

            "I see," Tetra said, though he didn't really see. "You're going to knock on the door when you know that no one's home."

            "Something like that," Boomer acknowledged. He didn't know how Tetra felt about nuclear firepower, and so he couldn't go any further. Once the Buzzbombs flew from _Gallagher_, everything would hit Tetra at once, and that was when Kuwangner would see if the man was a true believer or not. If he was, then tanks would lead the assault on the ruined Hunter HQ. If not, well…that was why Tetra would be training others to pilot tanks tonight, Kuwangner thought with a cold inner smile. The Maverick located his prospective tank pilots and went off to speak to them, with Tetra in his wake. There were still these final preparations, Boomer knew, but he'd be getting the order soon enough. Then, finally, a full year of planning and the past few months of hard effort would pay off. It had been a long time since Kuwangner had been really enthusiastic about a plan's chance for success, but this time he felt particularly elated. Soon, he knew, Megacity 5 would run red with more than just blood. The thought was worth another blood curdling cackle.

____________________

            Even at its most active state, the Hunter army was a small one. They moved one unit at a time, the footmen approaching the proper site and then teleporting, and the vehicle pilots making their way to the roads that would lead them to their destination a few miles north. Winter was descending upon this sector of the world, and there were reports of a snowstorm coming in from the west. This news had not been appreciated by the Hunter command, but even the best of preparations could not thwart Mother Nature. Unit 8 was already in the Catskills, and the other units were now for the most part on the move. Units 17 and 0 led the pack, while Zion's Unit 20, Archer's Unit 5, and Mason's Unit 3 moved in as a big pack after them. Zegmann's Unit 15 already had its more important machines on the move, but the majority of the unit was still sitting inside Hunter HQ, waiting for the remnants of 20, 5, and 3 to finish their departure.

            There was always the chance that a Maverick in the city might see the Hunters setting out and report it to the Mavericks in Seraph Castle, but what could be done about that? The only thing the Hunters could do secretly was teleport their soldiers to the vicinity of the castle and hope that the Mavericks didn't have spy drones in the sky, or worse, a satellite in space. Vulcan and Rykov hurried with the rest of Unit 5's foot soldiers to the proper place for safe teleportation, both awaiting the thrill of combat before them, but at the same time hating to leave the safety of Hunter HQ behind them.

            "Man, I don't know what Krysta was bitching about," Rykov commented as they shuffled into place. "It just hit me now that people are gonna be shootin' at us…_lots _of people are gonna be shootin, Vulc."

            "Tell me about it," Vulcan replied, watching his squad mates as they took their turns, disappearing in colored streaks of light. The silver Reploid checked the pistol in his belt, the rifle in his hands, and the saber on his back. He'd done this a hundred times already, but he was never satisfied. His nightmare was arriving on the battlefield with less than he needed to properly compete, which would almost certainly get him killed.

            Rykov in turn triple checked his big chain gun, making sure that everything was in proper order. "This be it, I guess. Anything to say before heading out on the mission into hellfire and death?"

            "When did you become such a cynic?" Vulcan asked, vaguely alarmed.

            "Dunno, Vulcan, dunno…" He tried to smile, but appeared nervous nonetheless. "I really don't know. I did the quarry mission just fine…no jitters or nothin'. Now, though…" He struggled to find the right words. "I just don't know. Can't really explain it."

            "Something just feels…?"

            "Yeah," Rykov nodded. "Something's gonna go wrong."

            "Of course something will go wrong," Vulcan agreed, somewhat to Rykov's surprise. "Things always go wrong. That, however, is a problem for the commanders to worry about. Us guys, we just do what we're told to do. It doesn't matter why. It's not up to us to figure out the hard things, so…don't worry about them."

            "You're in the wrong profession, Vulc," Rykov observed as he began to activate his own teleporter.

            "Am I?" the silver Hunter asked, doing the same thing.

            "Yep." Rykov grinned as his outline shimmered in a bluish hue. "You were obviously built for philosophy."

            "Philosophy," Vulcan agreed, a silver hue surrounding his person. "Philosophy of death?"

            "Bulls eye," Rykov nodded. _But death for which party?_ He didn't ask, as he teleported into the night sky, shortly followed by the streak of silver that was Vulcan. It was not, they both knew, something they should dwell on now, of all times.

____________________

            The Hunter airfield, too, was alive with activity. The Raven jets were taking off one by one. Raven 10's engines flared to life and it shot down the runway like a newly fired bullet, lifting off quickly and without incident. Its pilot tilted his mini jet a bit and began to circle the HQ airspace with the rest of the airborne Ravens, waiting until all their fellow pilots were in the air before heading off to Seraph Castle in one big group.

            Raven 11 taxied onto the runway and its pilot began takeoff procedures. Waiting his turn, Alec Tremont went over his preflight procedure one final time before starting his bird up. Raven 12 should be going ahead of him, he knew, but Raven 12 didn't exist anymore. Someone would pay for that, Alec promised himself, watching Raven 11's engines flare up in blue bursts of flame. Tonight they'd avenge Delgado and all the others who this batch of Mavericks had killed.

            A flashing light on his dashboard caught Alec's attention. The pilot of Raven 13 switched his radio to the proper station and was rewarded with the sound of his commander's voice.

            "Everything all right, Alec?"

            "Yes, sir," he responded to Commander James Taggart.

            "Good. I'll see you up there in a minute."

            "Roger, sir," Tremont replied with a smile, switching off the radio and moving Raven 13 onto the runway. Taggart himself was coming up in Raven 15 to lead the aerial attack. It was great for morale to have the air boss up with them, all the pilots thought. 11 Ravens were operational, with one destroyed and three down for maintenance, but 11 should be enough. All they were going to do was take out as many of Seraph Castle's external defenses as they could before setting up a perimeter around the area and watching for Buzzbombs in flight…assuming they'd be in flight. There was always the chance that a Maverick would carry a warhead in a box, or something, but it was up to base security to guard against that.

            Alec switched on his engines and felt himself pushed back into his seat as his small jet gained speed. He pulled up gently and entered the air, leaving Hunter Headquarters behind him. Again, he was in his element, and he loved it. Tonight it was even better, he thought. Tonight he had a mission, a real mission, and he could shoot back this time.

            "You're dead, you bastards," he whispered, remembering Carlos Delgado going up in a fireball. Alec tilted his jet properly and flew carefully around the city, waiting for the order to congregate and head out to the Catskills.

            It was a little harder for Jimmy Taggart. He hadn't been in a plane for a while, and despite his enthusiasm it took a while to reacquaint himself with everything. He was confident, though, when he started his engines and headed down the runway. He knew his job, and he knew that he had the right people to pull the job off. It was up to everyone else to finish the job, and that was what worried Taggart the most. If the Hunters were too slow in defeating Seraph Castle, the Mavericks might get a Buzzbomb in the air. Then, it would be up to Taggart's crew to shoot it down, and if they failed…if they failed, the blood of hundreds would be on their hands. No, Taggart knew, they wouldn't fail, if nothing else because they couldn't. Much more than their lives were at stake this time.

***

            It was like stepping into the past. The inside of the ship reminded him so very much of his old baby, his pride and joy. He wondered vaguely if any of these parts were recycled from that now defunct airship. Perhaps, he decided, but not likely. That had been years ago, after all. Still, everything about _Gallagher_, inside and out, reminded Storm Eagle of his _Death Rogumer_, and the avian's longing for his old ship was almost too much to bear.

            "Something wrong?" a shorter Maverick asked of the tall, majestic, cerulean armored eagle.

            "Just memories," the nostalgic Maverick said to his comrade, a bulky Reploid patterned after a beetle. He was encased in deep, thick blue armor that curved out around his face and upwards, forming a large upturned snout of sorts that bore a twin set of blades at the end. This was a digger beetle, after all, and what good was a digger without his digging tools?

            "Is it always like this before a battle?" Gravity Beetle asked, looking at the Mavericks bustling around inside the ship, making their final preparations. He had only participated in one major battle: his defense of the Doppler Town airfield. That mission had cost him his life, but his brother Boomer Kuwangner had pieced him back together after the third uprising died down, and they'd both sat out of the fourth uprising, unwilling to put their lives on the line again just yet. It was said that Gravity was the only one Boomer got along with, and vice versa. Storm Eagle certainly didn't get along with Boomer. The creepy Maverick chilled the eagle whenever he talked. Gravity wasn't hard to like, though, so long as you were fighting on his side. Storm had seen Gravity mete out severe judgment to many a Hunter unfortunate enough to find himself in front of Gravity's blade.

            "Generally," Storm affirmed, remembering the nervous preparations that had preceded the Blackstar smuggling operation. He hadn't taken part in the one, but he'd sat in on the planning. The Team, as they were still called, trusted Storm's intellect, and often asked his opinion before going ahead with their plans. It vaguely surprised Storm that they didn't consult Cyber Peacock all that often. Perhaps that bird was just too devious for them?

            Gravity Beetle watched the Maverick soldiers fill the ship. There would be no spare room to move around in, for sure. At least they were in the command center instead of the cargo bay where most of the soldiers would be crammed. In addition to being a deliverer of Buzzbombs, _Gallagher _would also transport Maverick reinforcements to aid Boomer Kuwangner on the ground. Gravity Beetle and Storm Owl would help coordinate things on the ground and in the air, giving Boomer the help he'd need to manage so many troops. Gredam would command the whole operation from _Gallagher_'s confines, at least until it was safe for him to come down. But the Commander wasn't here yet, Gravity realized. What was taking him so long? They didn't have all that much time left. In a few hours, _Gallagher _would be powered up for its first mission, and what a mission it would be! Gravity felt himself getting excited. Finally, he thought, he would get revenge on the Hunters who'd caused his destruction all those years ago. He would make the humans pay for what they'd done to the Reploid race. It was amazing how much power those little warheads had brought them, Gravity realized. Before the Buzzbombs, they were little more than thorns in society's side. Now, they were a real menace, and might actually succeed this time.

            Both Mavericks looked up when three new Reploids entered the control room. Revolver, the main pilot, grinned easily at the both of them as he headed towards his personal control panel to make the final system checks. He was flanked as usual by Chuck, the goofy looking woodchuck who was in reality far more dangerous than he appeared to be; and Barrier Greenback, the odd but curiously well-liked frog who had been responsible for the warhead activation on the Buzzbombs. It struck Gravity and Storm as odd that these technicians would be going on an actual mission, but they had constructed the ship, hadn't they? Who knew it better than they? Who could do a better job repairing the thing in midair, if it came to that? Yes, Revolver, Chuck, and Greenback were valuable members of this elite Maverick force, and they would be held in just as high regard as the fighters.

            "Greenback cannot wait," the frog said after hopping over to Gravity's side. "Greenback has worked forever on this big sky boat, and now Greenback gets to see it fly!"

            "More than that," Gravity pointed out, conversing easily with the amphibious Reploid. "You get to fly with it."

            Greenback bobbed his big, bulbous head enthusiastically. "Greenback is not sure he likes this new plan, though. Perhaps it was a better plan to just attack the Hunters when they were further away?"

            "I don't think so," Storm Eagle piped up. "We stand a much better chance of getting in place now than we would have if the Hunter Headquarters was still heavily guarded. We can still attack them as we pass, though."

            "The looks on their faces…!" Greenback was literally bouncing with anticipation. "Greenback can't wait to see the looks! Their stomachs will sink to their boots!"

            "Yeah, I suppose that will kick ass, won't it?" Gravity Beetle agreed. "Remind me to be near a window when we pass."

            Storm grinned with the rest of them but didn't allow himself to get all that lighthearted. In truth, he wished that they still had more time. This was half because he worried that _Gallagher _had been completed too quickly without time for proper testing, and partly because, he admitted to himself, he was still leery about using nuclear weapons to achieve his goals. The Mavericks had destroyed many a building in their day, but they'd never done something this destructive before, and it was a big, black line to cross. Once they did, they'd be hunted down like dogs by freedom loving humans everywhere. That was what Brazil was for, he reminded himself, but Brazil wasn't completed yet, and their mission began tonight. Too fast, he knew, it had all come together too fast. But what could they do about it? The Hunters were on their way, as the last intelligence report said. In a matter of hours, this whole area would turn into a battlefield. Would they be ready?

            And so, as Barrier Greenback and Gravity Beetle talked and laughed, Storm Eagle just stared up at the ceiling, wondering what fate awaited them tonight. The first strikes from the Hunters would be coming shortly, probably before the main artillery showed up. It wasn't his problem, he told himself. His problem was getting to Megacity 5 and making sure that no Hunter allies interfered via the sky. He could do that, he told himself. He could do that until he figured out how the battle would end, and then he could escape if he had to. He didn't like the idea of leaving his comrades, but he liked the thought of deactivation less. It had happened once, at X's hands, and he had no desire to repeat that episode. He'd just have to wait and see, he told himself, as Revolver powered up his new airship.

____________________

            "So…"

            "So…"

            "So…"

            The control room of Seraph Castle was fairly devoid of activity. The only one who needed computer access was Cyber Peacock, and he was managing internal base defenses from another room. Bit and Byte would be activating the castle's outer defenses now. That left four occupants in the room, standing in a cluster near the door. None were comfortable, and none bothered to hide it. This was the moment they'd waited for, the moment they'd spent a full year planning for, and yet now that it was here they wished it hadn't come.

            "This is it, then," Mortar said finally, looking up at Gredam, Malevex, and Teytha.

            "Indeed it is," Gredam agreed with forced enthusiasm. "We've done everything we can do. Now, finally, it's time to finish all this." He referred to more than just their year of Maverick employment. If they succeeded tonight, it would add closure to the greatest crime of the past, and that would provide them with the safety they wanted more than anything. After this night, they could all disappear. After this night, everything would change for the better.

            Still, the mission depended on on-site command, and that meant that someone had to lead the troops in Megacity 5. Gredam was the best man for that. Everyone knew him, and everyone trusted him. Malevex was better at site defense than battle tactics, anyway, and Teytha really wanted no part in this battle and they all knew it. Mortar, renovated though was, was still rusty as far as combat went, and would be better suited in the defense of Seraph Castle. So, Gredam would depart from the comrades he'd fought for and with all his life to embark on the most dangerous mission of his career. It was a goodbye that no one wanted to say, despite Gredam's reassurances that he'd teleport home if things fell apart.

            Malevex knew better. Gredam was a commander by nature. He'd stick with his men to the very end, no matter how badly things fell apart. Chances were fifty/fifty they'd never see each other again. True, that was hardly unusual, but the reality of impending doom for another good friend was not good for morale. Malevex had seen too many comrades die just before accomplishing their greatest mission. Gredam of all people knew how to take care of himself, but Malevex still sorely hoped that the man didn't get too attached to his soldiers, dishonorable as it sounded.

            Most of the moment had passed, and the time for speeches was over. It was time to begin their mission. Mortar stepped forward and shook Gredam's hand, looking up into the powerfully built Reploid's eyes and smiling with the calm confidence he'd displayed during their years as Terrornova grunts. "You know what to do," he said simply.

            Gredam nodded with his own confident grin, conveying his dedication through his eyes. Mortar saw it and knew then and there that this man had no qualms about anything he was about to do. He'd end this, he'd end all of this for them. The old Reploid nodded back and walked out the door, pacing down the hallway in quiet contemplation.

            Teytha was a bit unsure of herself. Gredam had helped her in so many ways, and she had never been very good at goodbyes. She walked up to her comrade and embraced him, hoping to convey with that what she doubted she could convey with words. "Thanks," she said, just in case. "For everything."

            Gredam smiled and ruffled her hair a bit. "Just don't get yourself hurt before I come home."

            "Right," she nodded, smiling as she, too, headed for the door. "See you soon."

            "Yeah," he agreed, once more with a confident grin to reassure his notoriously nervous friend as she departed. Then he looked towards Malevex and the grin died. "Too fast, man."

            "I know," the dark Maverick agreed quietly. "But there's nothing we can do about it. We've done our best up till now, Gredam. Now it all rides on you."

            "Not so," the camouflaged bot pointed out. "You're in charge of Seraph Castle. You have to keep the Hunters out of here until I get back."

            "I doubt that many Hunters will stick around."

            "We do have Zero," Gredam reminded him. "X may try something desperate. Watch your back, Malevex."

            "Zero…" He linked his fingers behind his head. "Ah, Zero. He responded rather well to my anecdotes. I think I might be getting through to him."

            "You hoping he'll think twice before attacking us?"

            "Nope." Malevex shook his head. "I doubt much of anything will stop him from attacking us, what with the Buzzbombs and all. But at the very least he'll have nightmares about it afterwards. He had one recently, you know? Kind of sad, really. A proud Reploid like that, humbled by some subconscious foe."

            "I know how he feels," Gredam said, nearly in a whisper, remembering the battle with Chartreuse in the Chancellor District. "No matter how strong you are, you can't escape your own mind." Malevex absorbed that. Gredam glanced around, almost nervously. "He asked for you."

            "Did he?" The haste was surprising. Malevex figured that he'd have wanted Zero to stew a little longer before this confrontation. "How long?"

            "Not very long ago." Gredam smiled sympathetically. "Just go in and do your thing, and leave when they start screaming at each other. All you have to handle are the introductions."

            "I'm bad at introductions," the dark Maverick pointed out. "I'm better at making people disappear than the other way around."

            "Adapt to the circumstances. You've never had a problem with that. Well, I can think of one thing," he added with a half grin, looking to the door where Teytha had just exited.

            Malevex blinked, a bit taken aback. "Wha…whoa, whoa—"

            His friend grinned. "Really, Malevex, it's hard to catch you off guard, but when it happens, it's great. Don't you think your dreary life would be improved by a little romance?" He had to laugh at the embarrassed look on Malevex's face. "At least take care of her, got it? And take care of yourself. She depends on you more than she does on the rest of us, even Mortar. If you get yourself killed, she may well choose to die right there with you. I can't always be around to cover your ass," he added with a friendly smirk.

            His comrade responded with an indignant hands-on-hips pose and an overly haughty facial expression. "I don't need a babysitter, thank you very much. I'll defend this castle without error! Assuming everything goes according to plan," he added, deflating.

            "Yeah," Gredam agreed with a somber nod. "Nothing _ever _goes according to plan. So, watch your back."

            "You too, man. It's a hostile place you're going to."

            They approached and shook hands, two friends committing themselves to a mission and to whatever fate had in store for them. Neither much liked fate, but both figured there wasn't much they could do to defeat her.

            Gredam saluted in the Hunter manner; a simple straightened back and a stomped foot. Malevex returned the gesture, one they used to do all the time. Now, though, while they conveyed respect for each other, the salute was a grim foreshadow of the vengeance that was to come upon the Maverick Hunters during the next few hours. Both Mavericks left the room together. Gredam started in the direction of Revolver's garage, where _Gallagher_ was still boarding passengers and equipment. He'd done all he could, the camouflaged Reploid decided. The rest was up to Bit and Byte, who had managed security from the very beginning. Malevex, Teytha, and Mortar would do their best if things went wrong, but Gredam had the feeling that they'd avoid fatal situations—otherwise known as combat—if they could help it. Then there was 'him'…but Gredam doubted that last one would do much of anything until everything else fell apart. The acting commander of the Maverick forces entered Revolver's garage and beheld the assembled Maverick soldiers, all of whom were armed and ready for their field trip to Megacity 5. It was time, he knew. Finally, at long last, they were headed off to war, a war that would seal the wounds of the past in the most dramatic manner Gredam could think of. He pictured Peter Thornton, impaled on the lightsaber Gredam carried but never really used. Thornton had been maimed, mutilated, and left in a pool of his own blood…

            …And he was the lucky one, Gredam thought, looking at the Buzzbomb launchers under _Gallagher_'s wings.

____________________

            It was harder for Malevex. Gredam was heading off to war, something that Malevex understood and did well at. He, on the other hand, was stuck inside this base with nothing to do but wait, something he'd never gotten accustomed to doing. He had things to do, he reminded himself. He just didn't want to do them.

            Just like right now, he reflected, heading down the hallways of Seraph Castle towards a destination he now knew very well. Despite the confidence he'd displayed when talking to Zero before, Malevex would in truth rather be facing a horde of Hunters rather than sit alone in a room with that crimson devil, behind bars or not. He might have confused Zero's motives, he thought, and maybe if the Hunter got away he might be satisfied with just killing Malevex, the head of the snake, and letting the body, Teytha and Mortar, slither away. It was wishful thinking, he thought, but wishes were granted sometimes. He'd escaped from Chartreuse all those years ago, hadn't he?

            He approached the door and inputted the code he alone knew…well, Gredam knew it, and so did one other, but Teytha and Mortar hadn't even wanted to know, and Malevex didn't trust anyone else with the code. His worst fear still remained to be Zero's escape. His lightsaber had been confiscated, of course, but many Mavericks who would be staying behind to guard Seraph Castle carried lightsabers, and all Zero needed was one of them and he could start wrecking havoc.

            With this happy thought, the door whooshed open and Malevex walked inside. Zero was sitting quietly, head down, obviously in some kind of deep thought. Or perhaps he was merely bored, Malevex thought as the door closed behind him. The dark Maverick walked across the room to an archive of interrogation manuals, among other things, and pretended to be looking for something. While shuffling through the documents, he reached to the back of the shelf and thumbed a switch. There was nothing for Zero to lock onto, but the person at the other end got the signal.

            Malevex took a handful of papers and recovered his pipe from the spot on the shelf where he'd left it last time. He moved over to a chair facing away from Zero's cage and had just sat down when the Hunter spoke without moving his head, somewhat to the Maverick's surprise.

            "Where did you get it?"

            Malevex blinked, but sat down as casually as he could while answering in a perplexed tone that was only half faked. "Get what?"

            "Your pipe," Zero explained after a few unnecessary seconds of silence that unnerved the Maverick. "I'm no expert, but it doesn't look like it's from around here."

            "Well, it's not from around here," Malevex agreed, examining the carved wooden device. "But it's not all that distinctive from any others, I don't think."

            A few more seconds of silence. Then: "Where did you get it?"

            "Oh, yes," the Maverick said absently, pretending to flip through the papers, wishing the steel door in the back of the room would open faster. "Yekaterinberg."

            "Yeka what?"

            "Yekaterinberg. A nice place, that." A small, distant grin appeared on the Maverick's face. Zero couldn't see it but he could vaguely hear it in the man's voice. "It's in north central Russia. I come from the Semyonov "Auratech" Robotics plant near Gorkiy…they invented the 'Vanguard' Reploid model. Mine was one of the early designs. They shipped me out of there—the European Commonwealth—into the Megacity System almost immediately, and the rest is history."

            "Who knew?" Zero remarked emotionlessly, still staring at the floor. In truth he really was bored out of his mind, and any conversation, even with this future mass murderer, was worth his time. The way he saw it, Malevex was just as uncomfortable speaking as he was, and if he could make the bastard sweat…why not? "You don't even carry an accent."

            "Not many Reploids choose to," he pointed out, still leafing through files. "Not the spies, at any rate."

            "Hmm." Zero conceded that point. "When did you go to Yekaterinberg, then?"

            "Years ago. On business," the Maverick added simply.

            "…What kind of 'business'?"

            "You don't want to know," Malevex answered, in a tone that left no doubt.

            Zero left it at that, somewhat surprised that Terrornova had even operated outside the Megacity System. Most of Russia and the surrounding areas were part of the European Commonwealth, a smaller but more militarily powerful group of nations that had opted to retain their national identities rather than integrate themselves into the Megacity System. Generally, and especially lately, diplomatic relations between the System and the Commonwealth were strained to say the least. A program like this operating out of the System's borders was…well, a bit creepy, Zero admitted.

            They were quiet for approximately two minutes before Zero found something else to talk about. "Well, Mr. Russian, sir…why exactly did you go through all the trouble of bringing me back here? I'd think it would have made more sense to snipe me to death on the street back there."

            "You and me both," the Maverick agreed in a monotone. "No, Zero, it's been decided that you're a VIP, and shall be treated as such. Well, except for the whole prison thing. Space limitations, and all that."

            "'Decided'?" the Hunter echoed. "But by who? Don't you guys decide everything?"

            "Wouldn't it be nice?" Malevex responded in a tone that wasn't easy to interpret.

            At this Zero's head raised and he chuckled lightly. "I don't believe it. So even after all this, even after killing Sigma in your secret coup and taking hold of the Maverick army, you guys are _still _taking orders from a third party? How in the _world _do you ever expect to get this freedom you say you want?"

            Malevex set both the pipe and the files down on a nearby table and swerved his chair to face Zero. "Really, Zero, you of all people must know that in all things there is a chain of command. When people think of the Hunter leadership, they picture you and X, not Cain and Signas. It is the same with us."

            "What, then?" the Hunter persisted, thinking he might finally be on the way to an actual answer. "You represent someone outside the Mavericks who wants to take control?" The Gold Serpent, perhaps? It had been a while since Zero had thought of him. Was that what this was all about? The Serpent, or someone like him, extending their hold to the Maverick army?

            But Malevex was laughing. "No, no, you're reading too far into this! It's so much simpler than that, almost even uncreative. There will be no big surprises for you, Hunter." At Zero's continued confusion, however, Malevex sighed and went on. "Perhaps, Zero, you need more time to think this through. I'd think that after all this time, you would have pieced everything together, but it seems that you still haven't memorized the behavioral patterns of certain individuals. The master plan here isn't a hard one to unveil. All you need to do is try."

            "I can help him there," said a new voice, and immediately afterwards the air in the room just crashed.

            While both Reploids had been talking, the steel door in the back of the interrogation room had quietly opened to admit the room's new occupant. He was still standing in the shadowy corner, but enough of his figure was visible that Zero identified him instantly. The Hunter stared with an expression of annoyance, frustration, confusion, and general hatred. The sight amused the newcomer, for he chuckled lightly as he slowly and purposefully strode towards the front of the room. Malevex stood and wordlessly stepped to the side, hiding himself in the shadows his superior officer had just emerged from.

            "I should have known," Zero whispered, shaking his head in somewhat of a daze. "I should have known… Don't you ever just _give up_?!"

            "Now, now, Zero," Commander Sigma replied neutrally, "that would be a defeatist attitude." His cold eyes narrowed, and his lips curled up in a smug smirk. "I think we all know that I'm just about the most persistent bastard in the world. How could I just _quit_? Why, what would mother think?"

            "You died!" Zero jumped to his feet and pointed an accusing finger at Sigma. "You died inside Final Weapon, and you died again in the quarry…they killed you!" He pointed to Malevex, who was still quietly leaning on a wall, cloaked for the most part in shadows.

            "Yes," Sigma agreed. "They killed me. My friend Malevex here shot me right in the forehead. A nice shot," he added, nodding respectfully to his underling, who nodded back, somewhat awkwardly. In truth, the dark Maverick was more than a little uncomfortable. Sigma was known and feared for his ego, and part of the plan or not, it had been Malevex who'd pulled that trigger, and if Sigma wanted to take someone out for killing him, Malevex would be the first one down.

            It seemed that those rumors were not true, however, and the greatest Maverick general looked back at Zero with a casual smile. "They killed me, and your guard dropped. Sure, you declared a Red Climate, but what good did that do you? You still were lax on the security, all because I was dead." His voice was spiteful, and he saw that Zero was more than a little embarrassed by this hard truth. "I was dead," he went on in a voice filled with gleeful venom, "and you assumed that all was well. While you beat around the bush and ignored Seraph Castle's presence, my Mavericks stole nuclear weapons, _right under your noses_! And you know the best part, Zero? It could happen again!" He laughed cruelly, seeing his enemy deflate at the verbal blow. "You Hunters will _never _learn from your mistakes! Sure, you've stopped me in the past, but I learn from every mistake I make, and who will deny that each of my attacks grow increasingly more deadly? I have _nukes_, for God's sake!" The Maverick King thrust out his arms, pushing his cape aside and displaying his new body. It was, for the most part, the first Sigma, with jade green armor and a long cape that was black this time, rather than red…virtually the same Sigma Zero had seen in his dream, and that was enough to force the Hunter to sit down.

            "Is something wrong?" Sigma asked with mocking sweetness. "Is the poor Hunter a little overwhelmed by his own stupidity? A pity. I'd think you'd be used to it by now." Zero's head began to slowly rise, knowing where Sigma was headed and starting to lose it. Sigma, encouraged, smiled and plunged onward into his scathing speech. "You set Dr. Doppler up in a virtual fortress nation, and gave him all the security guards in the world to preserve his 'Utopia' while I merely infected his systems and made the obvious move, spreading my Virus across the globe. You fools gave me the perfect base! But, of course, you managed to break inside. I managed, however, to put myself in the position I needed to be in. I was this close, Zero, this close! You interfered with my revenge," he said, leveling one of his jade armored arms in Zero's direction. "I had X at my mercy. He would have been my new host, and with that fool's help I would destroy all the Hunters. But you!" His voice was acidic. "You dealt with that double timing Doppler and attacked me with that countervirus…I bet it was a real thrill, wasn't it? I swore revenge on both of you that day…but it turns out that I didn't need to waste much effort on that endeavor. You did pretty well without my help." More laughter.

            Zero's head came up sharply, and his body tensed like a coiling rattlesnake. He was powerless behind these bars, but his mind wasn't registering that at the moment. All he saw was this devil in front of him, and he was about to open the big black door that Zero hadn't ever been able to go through, even after all this time, and now he was going to have to—

            "Was it a thrill then, too?" Sigma asked, suddenly low and monotonous. "Was it a thrill when you dismembered your Repliforce friends? When your sword lanced through Colonel's torso, did you relish his scream?"

            Zero shot to his feet, eyes wide and ablaze with hatred. Sigma just laughed at the sight and went on, hands on his hips and a huge grin on his face.

            "And Iris, Zero? What about her screams? She had a good one, I think. I heard it from my post, deep in the belly of Final Weapon. I didn't even have to interfere once! You got revenge on yourself for me! You're nothing but a murderer, Hunter, no better or worse than I am, and that revelation—which you _must _know—is greater than any death I could inflict on you!"

            Zero flew at the Maverick, his vision clouded in red, his mind registering only one thought: kill. Gradually he heard Iris's scream break through his rage, that long, agonized wail that Sigma had spoken of, and this only intensified his fury. He slammed into the bars and his left arm shot through, stretching out for the Maverick King, who merely stepped backwards, laughing with real humor at the pathetic sight. Immediately the bars came to life, sending large amounts of electricity through Zero's body. The charge had been carefully calculated not to kill, but to simply cause pain, and at first Zero's fury prevented him from noticing, but no Reploid could take this for long. In a few seconds Zero's outstretched claw wavered and fell, and he recoiled back from the bars with a sudden agonized howl, falling back against the crude bed and laying there awkwardly, shuddering and sparking, while Sigma continued to roar with laughter.

            Malevex jumped when Zero hit the bars. The Maverick's eyes widened, fixed on the scene, which rather horrified the former assassin. Still, he hadn't been able to look away, and his face bore a mixture of emotions as Zero's cry split the air and resonated through Malevex's head. Memories of similar devices sprang into action, and when it was over he was able to snap his head away, pressing himself against the wall he leaned on. He broke out in a cold sweat and found that he was shivering slightly, though he was too stunned by the moment to be ashamed. What power was in those bars, he wondered? Were they akin to the Surgers that had plagued him in his youth? It certainly appeared that way. No one deserved that, the Maverick told himself, not even this crimson killer. He continued to look away as Sigma got control of his laughter, praying that no one would look at him, hoping he wouldn't have to explain why he sympathized with a Hunter.

            "Yes, Zero," Sigma said to the shuddering Hunter, still gleeful, still scathing. "You failed to save your friends, and then you failed to destroy me, the one who put everything in motion. I escaped Final Weapon in a body unfit for combat. I had to occupy a new one, you know. So, I fashioned this body, making it similar to my birth form. Old ways work best, you know. Then, I thought, what better way to occupy it than to make it a public display? Lower Hunter awareness while my colleagues completed their mission! Yes, you failed there, too, Zero. You haven't learned, even after all your murders and sacrifices, and now you'll pay for it."

            "They're coming," Zero rasped, raising his head and speaking weakly to the hateful Maverick. "They're coming, and they'll kill you, and they'll kill your colleagues, just like all those other times…" He inhaled a few times, regaining his strength. "You're a failure, Sigma! You call me a failure, but you're no better! You'll fail at this, just like you fail at everything else!"

            "My dear Hunter," Sigma said, again low and calculating, "I'm afraid you don't quite understand the situation." He punched his fist into his palm, rubbing his knuckles and smiling coldly. He'd waited months for this confrontation, and he would relish every moment of it. "The Hunters are indeed coming. However, they will never make it to Seraph Castle. They will soon find that they have more…pressing business to attend to. In the meantime, you and I will have a little chat."

            "I have nothing to say to you," Zero spat with finality.

            "Sure you do," Sigma would not be discouraged. "You just don't know it yet." He turned towards the regular door that Malevex had used to enter, standing tall and proud. "I don't need to hide anymore. Let it be known, Malevex, that Sigma has returned! While my death boosted Hunter morale, word of my life will destroy it!"

            "Yes, Commander." Malevex was surprised that he'd kept his voice that neutral. He forced himself to start moving, walking as casually as he could past the bars without turning to look at Zero. He punched in a code on the door and it whisked open. A second later the door closed and Malevex was gone.

            Sigma turned back to Zero and let out a satisfied breath. "It's all in order, Zero. The master plan he spoke of is coming together as we speak."

            "It will never work," Zero insisted, forgetting already his pledge not to say anything.

            "Says you." The Maverick King was smug as ever. "I'll be sure to give you live updates as the plan proceeds. It'll all happen tonight, Hunter." He turned to leave, striding back to the steel door he'd entered through, his black cape flapping behind him and melting into the shadows with the rest of him. "Tonight, Zero," he said, turning his head. "Tonight, the world as you know it will change forever." Then he, too, was gone, leaving Zero to once again drown in his personal pool of dread.


	33. First Strikes

Chapter Thirty-Two: First Strikes 

            The Catskill mountain range near Megacity 5/New York spans a great distance. The best thing to happen to the Hunters was finding Seraph Castle's position before the Red Climate began…otherwise, even with spy planes, finding one fort in the midst of many mountains could well have taken more time than the Hunters had. Some had questioned the fort's close proximity to Hunter HQ, citing that the danger posed be being so close to one's enemies was too great for a tiny, hurting group like the Mavericks. In light of recent developments, however, the choice seemed to be a very good one. Teytha had led Blackstar 5041 to the mouth of the mountain road leading up to Seraph Castle—the one the Hunters were using even now. Had Seraph Castle been further down, Malevex's reinforcements would never have arrived in time, and the entire Maverick plot would have been foiled. Also there was another detail, one that the Hunters did not yet know—an airship lay in an underground garage, and in order for it to reach its target destination and perform its grisly task, it needed fuel. Fuel was not something Sigma ever had enough of, excluding the first uprising, when he'd controlled basically the entire Megacity and its surrounding areas. If Seraph Castle were any further from Megacity 5, _Gallagher _would have quite a time completing its mission.

            Seraph Castle lay in a valley of sorts, in between two large mountains and the high ground that surrounded them. The high ground dipped downward into what in the spring was a beautiful vale, and what in winter was a picturesque snowy wonderland. That was, of course, until Sigma came and built his fortress, and now while the castle did not really pollute or damage the environment, it still hideously out of place, likening to a rip in a beautiful painting. Sigma had been intelligent enough in his architectural design that he placed the fort against a high rise, so no attack could come from behind. Teytha's road led ultimately to a dead end at the foot of a small mountain after winding wildly throughout the mountain range. This dead end was now guarded by invisible forces buried not so deeply underground; mines were scattered about the area, powerful enough to destroy tanks, just in case the Hunters in their folly followed the road all the way to its end. To reach the Maverick Palace, one had to head down a smaller side road that began roughly halfway down the main path. Teytha and Malevex had led their compact mobile artillery units down this way with relative ease, but tanks would never fit in so tight a space. Even after Taggart's aerial spies had confirmed the possible paths to Seraph Castle, the main difficulty was moving the tanks. Advanced though they were, they couldn't yet climb mountains without significant risk, and thus were forced to use the low roads leading directly across the range. The Mavericks knew this, of course, and took care to leave all manner of little surprises for the unlucky Hunters stuck moving the big guns. Mines all but littered the roads, and already three ride armors were down and one mini-tank destroyed due to this hidden menace. The only solution, if it could be called so, was to call in one of Taggart's birds to spray the road with machine gun fire, thus setting off as many hidden mines as possible, though certainly alerting any nearby enemy soldiers. Still, the Hunter leaders X and Zion decided, the Mavericks must know something is happening by now. Surely spies reported that the Hunters had left their base.

            And so, Ravens 4 and 5 flew in to do battle with dirt. Taking great pains to avoid hitting their comrades, and at the same time feeling insanely foolish, they opened fire on the ground. Raven 4 headed down the low road and Raven 5 followed it, picking off what 4 left behind. The plan worked, to a point. Explosions followed the two jets wherever they went. Occasionally the advancing Hunter artillery passed a Maverick guard post, and while many stood and fought and died, the wiser ones retreated from their posts and hid themselves in the mountains, waiting for the danger to pass.

            It wasn't any easier for Units 3, 5, 17, 20, and 0. Zion divided his Unit 20 between Archer and Mason, and went with the latter down a path leading to the right mountain, while the former took his men towards the left mountain. X and Delates moved together, taking a straighter, more heavily guarded path towards the fort. They would reunite near the mouth of the valley, and when Erich Zegmann's 15th Unit appeared in full, their main attack would begin. But Zegmann was himself still at the beginning of the Catskill paths, and at any rate a third of his unit was still at Hunter Headquarters, struggling to get their machines working.

            But the battle would begin in its own way even before Zegmann appeared, X and Zion knew. Even now as Zion, Mason, and Archer headed towards the twin mountains that bordered Seraph Castle, Damia's 8th Unit was already there, divided into two groups, each with the same mission. Compared to the Hunters, the Mavericks were grossly outnumbered. However they had knowledge of the land and cruel cunning on their side, and they'd set up gunnery encampments at various places along the trails they expected the Hunters to use, as well as a number of other traps. They soon learned, though, that with so many Hunters coming it would be foolish to use any of the guns they'd planted, lest they be immediately overwhelmed and destroyed. Still, several Mavericks attempted to destroy the intruders when the groups looked to be small…and immediately after larger groups would come running, and the Mavericks would die. Most of the sparse enemy patrol unit, however, chose to hide in the cover of the snowy mountains and armed themselves with radios rather than rifles, and they called in and reported Hunter troop movements. Bit and Byte were not all that worried—they did not expect the Hunters to stick around for very long. But if they did come, the Maverick brothers knew, they would have to have some plan set up to stall the enemy long enough for their comrades to escape and flee to Brazil or some other sanctuary. They used the reports well, and Malevex spent most of his time with Mortar and Teytha going over new developments and offering his advice as a tactician on how to set up the base security. Cyber Peacock had already initiated several brilliant internal traps inside Seraph Castle, though all the Mavericks hoped that their use would be unnecessary.

            Aiding in this reconnaissance effort were two radar bases, one at the foot of the east mountain, and one at the foot of the west mountain. They had been cleverly placed in areas where air strikes would be impossible or difficult at best, and the actual radar antennas were not large enough to attract real attention from planes passing overhead. However, Taggart's spies were very good at what they did, and photos taken by Alec Tremont and many other pilots had been sent to Caligula's Invisible Men for analysis. Caligula had quickly locked onto the two radar bases and guessed at their role in the coming battle. The Mavericks would certainly expect some kind of aerial attack on their fort, and the small radar bases would lock onto the Ravens as they moved in to fight. It was still in debate whether or not the radar bases had locked onto Carlos Delgado on that night not so long ago, but many thought it likely. Something had to have alerted the Mavericks, after all. No one knew how far the radar reach stretched, and so Taggart did not allow any of his birds to fly near the twin mountains. Ravens 4 and 5 were not allowed to spray the ground past a certain point, and when the Hunters reached there they were forced to stop and wait. They would not have to wait long. While an air strike may have been impractical, a ground assault was certainly necessary, and Damia was more than up to the task. Once the radar bases were gone, the Hunters knew, Taggart could begin his bombing raids and fulfill half his role in the battle…that was finally upon them, they all knew now.

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            The wind was cold, very cold. Winter in itself was bad enough, the young Reploid thought, but a Catskill winter was downright harsh. Here he was high in the mountains, surrounded by piles of snow that would only get deeper, if the meteorologists were right about the coming blizzard. They were right, he knew. They were never wrong, not anymore. Even now he was able to pick out the silver linings on the clouds in the dark night sky, and he could see no moon. It didn't rain at this time of year, he knew, not here at least. The snow in the air was thickening, and the wind was picking up. He sorely hoped that it didn't affect the radar readings he was supposed to be taking. The Maverick took a long pull on his cigarette and expelled the fumes slowly, watching the smoke grow even thicker due to the contact between his warm breath and the freezing air. Time for another check, he supposed.

            "Hey, Gerritt!"

            The Reploid turned to face the speaker. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Cordan."

            "Naw, forget the radar," Cordan replied, gesturing to the snowy paths surrounding the small radar hut. "I'll handle that. Largo's on his way in, you go take his place."

            "Why me?" Gerritt protested in more than a little annoyance.

            "Because you're next in line after Firs, and you look bored anyway." Cordan grinned, twitching his whiskers. "Besides, you know how jittery Largo is, and Firs isn't much better. Hans and Tortal just got back, so it ain't right to send them back out."

            "Why don't you go, if you love it so much?"

            "Never said that," Cordan replied with a shrug. "I'll go out after Firs. Check you later."

            Easy for him to say, Gerritt thought as he watched Cordan leave. Cordan was patterned after a snow fox, and so he was right at home in this climate. Gerritt, however, was made to resemble a raccoon. Sure he was bipedal, like the vast majority of animal-based-but-still-humanoid Reploids, but he was also a raccoon, and raccoons belonged in forests, not in the goddamned freezing mountains.

            Sighing, Gerritt stubbed out his cigarette and let it fall, wishing he'd spent more time inside the shed. They'd bought a heater on their own, and he wouldn't mind crashing in front of it now, but for the moment he'd go and relieve Largo—that jittery wimp—and prowl around in the snow for god knew how long. He lifted his rifle from its place against the outer wall of the wooden shed and started towards the trail. He found Largo after a few minutes, and the tall skinny humanoid was just thrilled to be sent back to the heated shelter he'd left twenty minutes ago. So what if the Hunters came, Gerritt thought. If they came, he'd run, and damn the Great Maverick Cause. He was in this to get back at the humans who'd branded his brother a Maverick and the Hunters who'd then shot him dead on the street—Gerritt's brother had served with Repliforce, and the Hunters hadn't taken kindly to his desire for independence.

            It was a simple path around some smaller hills, and Gerritt walked it almost mindlessly at first, annoyed at the task and at Firs's incompetence and at Cordan's laziness, but as time passed he settled down and remembered that there were most probably Maverick Hunters in vast numbers approaching Seraph Castle, and any sounds that seemed remotely out of place were to be taken as life threatening instances. Gerritt had been up here long enough to know what sounded normal and what was out of place, and he listened keenly for anything that would set off a mental alarm.

____________________

            But the people who approached the western radar base did so slowly and cautiously, and they made no noises for Gerritt to lock on to. There were four of them, and all were decked out in cloaks of gray, bright enough to blend with the snow, and dark enough not to expose them in the black of night. All found the cloaks to be cumbersome, but none were willing to give up the useful camouflage. Not yet, at any rate.

            One of them crept hastily up to a hill of snow and threw herself down on the white earth. She looked at the path below this high ground, and to the shed in the distance. She'd found her target, and she was sure her comrades had found theirs. Shivering at the cold air and ground, Commander Damia activated the communicator in her wrist and spoke in a harsh whisper so as to be heard over the wind, but only by her intended audience. "Alpha One in position five-zero yards south of target, report status."

            "Alpha Two, in position east of Alpha One, two-five yards from target," she heard a few minutes later.

            "Alpha Three," a third voice chimed in, "in position near Alpha Two."

            "Alpha Four is onto something," the final member of Damia's team reported.

            "Acknowledged," Damia said to them all. "What do we have, Acrystos?"

            "I've reached the detail we discussed earlier," Alpha Four responded.

            "What do we have?" Damia repeated, interested. The western radar base wasn't the only shed in the area. There seemed to be an encampment of sorts nearby, though the pictures taken by Taggart's spies hadn't been clear enough to make any identification.

            "Looks like an ammo dump," Alpha Four, Acrystos, responded from her position, crouched in a heap of building snow, freezing but watching her target intently. "They've got all sorts of boxes there, ma'am, and there's even a mounted machine gun."

            "Lovely," Damia hissed back, fighting off a shiver as the wind grew ever colder. "Enemies?"

            "I count three Mavericks at the ammo dump…any one could get on that machine gun, ma'am."

            "I agree," the commander replied without much in the way of hesitation. They had to disable that machine gun before they attacked the base, for sure. "Alpha Two, Alpha Three, what say you?"

            Alpha Two, a human named Henry Wallace, centered in on the shed with the zoom function on his rifle. He'd already counted the figures moving in and out of the base, and made his best guesstimate. "I count five at the shed. Looks like they sent one out on patrol, though I'm not sure of the route yet." It would be so easy, Wallace thought while staring at the snow fox who stretched luxuriously on the shed's porch, to take down the Maverick scum here and now, but then he'd risk them alerting Seraph Castle with radios…and that was why they weren't attacking with rifles, Wallace thought with a grin, turning his attention to Alpha Three, another human named Peter Stromm, his longtime friend and usual partner. Stromm held in his hands the S88, a variant of the Stinger missile launcher. Already Wallace saw Stromm analyzing the shed's structure. It was actually bigger than they'd first thought. One missile might take out the radar, but Stromm would need to reload before taking out any surviving Mavericks. Well, that was what Wallace was there for…cover fire.

            "Roger," Damia replied, and then sighed into the wind, making her choice. "Acrystos, stay put. I'm coming to help you out." She switched channels. "Team Bravo this is Team Alpha, what is your status?"

____________________

            "Team Alpha, this is Team Bravo," a calm Reploid named Castle responded. "Bravo One is in place, two-five meters away from the target."

            "Bravo Two is in position with Bravo One."

            "Bravo Three, in position on eastern hill, one-five meters."

            "Bravo Four, west hill, one-eight meters."

            "Bravo One reports five enemies, two in the station, three others on patrol."

            "Alpha One copies. Stand by."

            "Roger that," Castle replied, turning to Bravo Two, a human sniper named Brant Everett. Everett, a lean blond haired young man in his mid-twenties, focused on the shed that was the eastern radar base. It was bigger than the western one, mostly because of its height. It was also a bit wider, and Team Bravo wondered if maybe the Mavericks used it as a storage shed as well. "What do you think, Brant?"

            Everett didn't look up from his sniper rifle. "I think it's too much for one shot, pal."

            "I think you're right," the regularly built, dark armored humanoid agreed, looking to the S88 Stinger launcher laying at his side while switching on his communicator. "Team Bravo, there's gonna be a brief lull while I refuel my tank. Can you handle it?"

            "I'm insulted, Castle," Bravo Three, a big, powerful Reploid named Dantz said from his position atop the eastern snow hill overlooking the radar base. Dantz, with his bulky red armor, depended heavily on his gray cape for camouflage. He carried an assault rifle fitted with a scope rather than a sniper rifle, and he was close enough that he could do serious, accurate damage with that thing. Still, three Mavericks were out on patrol, and while Castle might get the two in the base with his missiles, three Mavericks running about unclustered could be hard to take down before they escaped.

            Meters away, on a hill to the west of the radar station, another Reploid lay in wait. His name was Deluge, and he fittingly wore blazing blue armor underneath his gray cape. He, too, carried an assault rifle, and from his position he examined the terrain. There were no ammo dumps nearby. There were some clusters of supplies, and the occasional barrel of propellant for the heaters that the Mavericks must have installed. Deluge thought for a minute and then keyed his communicator. "Dantz, I have an idea." Bravo Four went over the said idea, and Dantz, satisfied, agreed to it, as did Castle and Everett, who had listened in.

            "Wait for the order," Castle reminded them all unnecessarily, for while all were eager, none complained. Unit 8 survived because it was cautious. There was no such thing as too much caution, they all knew, especially when living the life of a guerilla.

____________________

            Gerritt had decided to walk to the ammo dump and check in with the folks there, if nothing else because he was bored, and he admitted to himself that he wanted to stay as close to the radar base as possible. He told himself that it was because he didn't want to be caught in the blizzard, but the raccoon knew that it had a lot more to do with the fact that Hunters were approaching rapidly. The ammo dump was visible from the radar base…in fact it was merely down the road. Gerritt had taken a roundabout path to reach it, going through some snow hills to at least act like he was on patrol. He'd feel better when he was nearer to that mounted machine gun, he knew.

            For all his increased vigilance, Gerritt did not notice the diminutive Reploid creeping speedily yet silently across the snow hills behind him. Damia kept her cape pulled tightly around her for fear it would flap in the wind and alert the enemy, but at the same time she made sure that her assault rifle could easily be brought up to an attack position. Once she surmised where the raccoon was heading, she ducked behind a rock formation that lay along the path and activated her communicator. "Alpha Four, be advised you have an enemy coming up behind you."

            "Acknowledged, Alpha One," Acrystos confirmed from her spot far ahead. She was perfectly hidden, she thought, and as long as she didn't move the approaching enemy wouldn't be able to tell her apart from the snow. "Am I letting him live, Alpha One?"

            "You are," Damia replied after a moment's contemplation. That Maverick might make reports back to the shed via his radio, and if he were suddenly late in reporting, the enemy might get suspicious. The leader of Unit 8 crept out from her hiding spot and shadowed Gerritt the rest of the way to the ammo dump, which was perhaps fifty meters from the shed. Here she hid herself under a pile of snow much as Acrystos had, and kept her rifle hidden. For her part Acrystos retracted her rifle under the snow with her, having been using its scope to monitor the three Mavericks sitting at the ammo dump.

            Gerritt saw that the three Mavericks were still there, and it reassured him enough that his fear of Hunters died down a bit. He reached into a compartment on his brown armor and produced his pack of cigarettes. Setting his rifle down and leaning it against his leg, he found his lighter in the same compartment and lit up a cigarette, disgusting Damia and Acrystos with his lack of vigilance. Just another thug with a gun, they both thought.

            As Gerritt replaced his cigarette pack and lighter, he thought to check his internal clock. He'd been out for twelve minutes now, he realized. He could start back now, and reach the shed just in time to legitimately say he'd done his duty, and now it was some other asshole's turn, jittery or not. It vaguely irked him that he could just take the straight path from the ammo dump and reach the shed in five minutes, but that wasn't enough time, he knew. He picked up his rifle, shouldered it, and started back down the trail he'd come from, passing Damia without the slightest hint of alarm.

            Damia waited for a minute after he passed, just to make sure, and then rose from the snow, forcing herself not to shiver too much lest it affect her aim. She scampered forward to the mouth of the trail, and beheld the cache. There were boxes of ammunition and barrels of propellant, probably to reinforce some nearby larger patrol force. This vaguely worried Damia, but they weren't planning to stick around long enough for enemy reinforcements to arrive. "Alpha Four, Alpha One is in position with full view of target."

            "Alpha One, Alpha Four has similar status," Acrystos responded, slowly pushing her rifle out of the snow. She was actually off the trail, well to the right, and found that she had a good line of fire. Still, she thought, she was using an assault rifle, not a sniper rifle, and the wind was picking up. It would help to be a little closer, she decided. "Alpha Four recommends moving in."

            "Alpha One acknowledges that." Damia frowned and watched the lazy Mavericks at the cache. One was leaning back right on the machine gun. He wasn't in danger of firing it; he was just using it as a backrest. "Wait for my signal. We'll move in and secure this cache. Alpha Two, Alpha Three," she went on, "are you ready?"

            "Alpha Two is on target," Henry Wallace confirmed, keeping his sights trained on Cordan the snow fox. The Maverick walked in and out of the shed on a regular basis, and from the looks of things he was ready to head back in. Even if the fox retreated, Wallace reasoned, the shed was not a safe place to be. Wallace confirmed this with a glance at his partner.

            "Alpha Three is locked and loaded," Peter Stromm affirmed, hoisting the S88 on his shoulders and activating the target sensors. It penetrated the interference caused by the advancing blizzard and locked onto the heater inside the shed, of all things. Stromm had decided that an attack on the base of the building might cripple the people inside, but they could still send an alert message with the help of that radar antenna. That had to go first. Stromm lifted the S88 a bit and focused on the roof, where the thick stem of the antenna emerged. His aim didn't have to be all that good, he reasoned. The explosion would certainly take out the base of the antenna, and then he could reload and fire again. He hadn't carried that heavy second missile up here for nothing, Stromm grumped inwardly, thinking of the shell in his pack.

            "Good," Damia said at length. "Stand by." The moment was upon them, she knew. The blizzard would begin in full force soon, and maybe it would cut off advancing Maverick reinforcements. She had to move now. She switched frequencies and called up her second squad. "Team Bravo, are you ready to execute?"

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            "Bravo One, on target." Castle hefted his own S88 with little trouble, having decided to take out the lower section of the large shed. He figured that this way he might neutralize the two Mavericks manning the radar and radio before taking out the antenna. His second missile was already out of his pack and waiting to be loaded.

            "Bravo Two, on target." Brant Everett had his sniper scope lined up on one of the three patrolling Mavericks, but he knew it wouldn't last long. "Target is moving out of range."

            "Bravo Three has no target, but this is a part of the plan."

            "Bravo Four agrees."

            "Plan?" Alpha One was confused, but she'd learned before that it was foolish to question the ingenuity of her soldiers…Castle and Acrystos in particular. The two Aegis agents had already experienced a good deal of action in previous wars that Damia herself would never match, and they'd thought their ways out of several unlucky situations. If Castle had something planned, it was best to just let him run with it. "If you say so. Team Bravo, execute. Team Alpha, stand by for my order. Our mission just became a two-step process, and step one is up to me."

____________________

            Cordan glanced at Firs and Largo, both of whom were warming themselves before the heater. The snow fox despised humans, and therefore despised humanoids. Firs and Largo didn't score any points by being nervous and incompetent, either. The small shed was home to a large couch and a chair, and two smaller chairs near the radar computer terminal. Seated there now were Hans and Tortal, the only two besides Gerritt that Cordan could really rely on. Hans was a humanoid, but at least he was a competent one, and Cordan did appreciate that. Tortal was a turtle, and Cordan thus thought his name was a hideous pun, but he had yet to say this to Tortal himself, for this turtle was a tough turtle.

            "Both of you," Cordan said to Firs and Largo. "Get up and take the next patrol."

            "Both of us?" Largo protested. "I just came back!"

            "I'm going with you," Cordan added, as if that were supposed to help. "It's time you two learned a thing or two about proper patrolling technique. Now grab your weapons!"

            Cordan was in command of this station, and so Largo and Firs complied, though they did so with rancor. Even the people Cordan respected didn't like the overbearing fox much. They left the shed a minute later.

____________________

            "Good evening," Henry Wallace said as he centered his sniper rifle's scope back on Cordan's furry head. Next to him, Peter Stromm heard a repeated beeping coming from his bulky launcher. It had acquired its target.

____________________

            Team Bravo acted first. Dantz and Deluge watched and waited for their targets to reappear, and when they did not they centered their rifles on the proper path and sent Castle their signal. Castle heard the beeping from within his own S88 and steeled his nerves. The Reploid punched the proper trigger button and the launcher shuddered in his hands. A trail of smoke invaded his optics, and even before this cleared the whistle of a missile in flight registered in his sound receptors. The projectile sped through the air leaving a brief trail of black smoke behind it and impacted the front of the shed's lower level, dead center. It was as though the explosion had begun from deep inside the shed. The walls exploded outwards and a gout of flame spewed forth from every available venue. Thunder split the windy but otherwise silent night, and all around the remaining wild animals scurried for cover. War had begun, and they had no place in that.

            Castle was already reloading. He opened the casing on the S88 and struggled to shove the cumbersome missile shell inside. It didn't take him more than thirty seconds, and Brant Everett was making sure nothing exciting happened in the meantime. The sniper watched the front of the destroyed building, noticing how the upper level seemed ready to cave in. That antenna wouldn't be around much longer, and Castle was just going to give it a helpful nudge in the right direction.

            Everett didn't quite believe it when he saw it—a Maverick was stumbling out of the fiery wreckage. An arm was missing, and he was rather torn up. Everett zoomed in on the target's head and almost recoiled in disgust. Violent things, Stingers were. Everett depressed the trigger on his sniper rifle and ended the target's pain.

            Dantz and Deluge started shooting at almost the same time. They had both removed the silencers from their assault rifles and now used the noise to their advantage. The sound of automatic weapons chatter filled the night as Bravo Three and Bravo Four drew lines in the snow near the entrance of one path.

            Just as Castle finished his reloading process, Dantz and Deluge sprang their trap. The Mavericks had come running, not away to safety, but back to the scene of carnage to see what had happened. One of the three Mavericks on patrol emerged from the trail that the Hunters were showering with gunfire, and was gunned down very quickly. The other two emerged from different paths, saw which direction the gunfire was coming from, and raced back in the opposite direction before returning fire at the invisible shooters with their own weapons. Their efforts were futile, though, and they hid near a larger cluster of ammo boxes and propellant tanks.

            Deluge smiled and stopped shooting. He whirled around in the snow and leveled his rifle at the clustered Mavericks. One may have seen the movement, but that would forever be left in question. Deluge squeezed the trigger and his weapon jerked in his firm grasp. The three-round burst of adaman bullets passed well over the two targets, instead striking the central barrel of propellant in a group of three. The heater fuel went off instantly, taking the other two barrels with it. The resulting explosion seemed on par with the one Castle had just caused. The two Mavericks were seen hurtling through the air before the energy of the blast caught up with them. Deluge saw both bodies land, and he loosed three-round bursts into each of them, just in case.

            Immediately afterwards, Castle's second missile flew through the air and landed in the already burning second level of the shed. Immediately the level caved in, and the radar antenna with it, all vanishing into a roaring flame that soon died down, though not by much, and burned well into the night.

            "Team Bravo report!" Castle said, five seconds after impact.

            "Bravo Three has no target."

            "Bravo Four has eliminated both remaining targets. No target remaining."

            "I'm cool," Brant Everett said simply, from his spot right next to Castle.

            "Stand by and make sure," Castle ordered, though he knew that they couldn't wait long. Thirty seconds after the second blast, Castle deactivated his S88 and packed it back in the equipment case he'd carry on his back. "Team Bravo, pack up. Team Alpha," he said, switching frequencies, "Team Bravo has completed its mission. Request permission to retreat to rendezvous point."

____________________

            Damia summed up her targets and wondered briefly where Acrystos was hiding. She'd gotten used to not being able to find her own squad mates, so good were they at hiding themselves. Still, sometimes it would help her judgment to see exactly how far away one of her soldiers was from an enemy.

            "Alpha Four, are you ready to attack?"

            "You bet, Alpha One."

            "Alpha Two, Alpha Three, what is your situation?"

            "I've got three Mavericks on the porch," sniper Henry Wallace reported back. "I can probably take two down before they know what's going on. I don't know about the third one."

            "Alpha Three?"

            "We might want to have Henry take out one or two of the varmints before I shoot," rocketeer Peter Stromm recommended. "I'll fire soon as he does, and if he can take down another before the fire starts, good for him. Maybe the impact'll disorient the third bastard long enough for a three-peat."

            "Also be advised there are at least two Mavericks in the shed," Wallace reminded them. He wasn't all that worried about his shots alerting the enemy…his rifle was silenced, after all. Still, if one of the guys inside happened to look out a window at the wrong time and see his buddy go down, all they had to do was punch an alert button and the Seraph Castle defenses would be ready for Taggart when he came.

            "Copy that." Damia considered her options, making her decision quickly. "Acrystos and I are gonna get this party started. Wait till I give you the order. Wallace, take the first shot. Stromm, fire as soon as the bastard goes down."

            "Copy," Alphas Two and Three responded at once.

            Castle would be starting his attack right about now, Damia thought. Sure enough, a low thunder seemed to resonate throughout the nearby mountains, perhaps carried to them by the relentless icy wind. "Acrystos, rise and approach. We are weapons free."

            Acrystos took a deep breath and rose slowly from the snow that had been her shield. The wind was picking up, and it tossed her cloak sharply behind her, but the flapping was drowned out by the shrill wind, and there was enough snow flying that she could legitimately hope that the Mavericks would take the cape for snow in the wind. She approached quickly yet cautiously, keeping her assault rifle raised and leveled at the chest of her first target. She was approaching from the right flank, and Damia would be coming in from the center.

            Damia was doing just that. She moved much the same way Acrystos did, only she was even less conspicuous due to her slight build. Unit 8's commander didn't trust the wind enough to line up a headshot, and so she too focused on the chest of the rightmost of the three Mavericks…the one leaning on the machine gun. Gunsmiths had finally learned how to properly silence assault rifles without compromising aim, and she blessed this as she steadied her nerves and fired a three-round burst of adaman bullets at her target. The clack of the rifle's slide was more audible than the actual shot, and that was completely drowned out by the wind. Even if the Mavericks had turned to look, there was nothing they could see but flying snow, and there was nothing they could hear, either. Thus, they never knew what hit them.

            The Maverick by the machine gun felt like he'd been dealt a murderously hard punch. Large holes appeared suddenly and inexplicably in his armor, traveling clear through his body. Two of the bullets ruptured his generator, and it destroyed his torso in a violent explosion.

            The Maverick to the left saw his friend go down and his first conscious thought was to spin around and figure out what had just happened. It hadn't even registered that the man had been shot, so sudden was the incident. The Maverick would never learn the truth, since two of Acrystos's bullets transfixed his chest and another found its way between his eyes, something Acrystos hadn't planned for but wouldn't complain about.

            The third Maverick was the only one to realize what was happening, and he raised his weapon probably to fire off into the distance at targets he could not see. Acrystos was turning just as soon as she loosed her first burst, and saw the startled sentry raising his weapon. She was shooting even before the thought registered in her head, and the automatic nature of her attack brought back many memories. This whole mission reminded her so much of her days working undercover for Aegis, usually behind enemy lines, during the Repliforce war. There, quick wits and automatic responses to threats had kept her alive and ticking, and had brought her enemies to quick ends. Such was the case with this Maverick, who fell with two bullets in his abdomen and one right in the center of his generator.

            Damia and Acrystos raced across the snowfield and huddled among the boxes of ammunition, watching for other threats that may have come in response to their recent action. Before long Damia stood and rested her rifle on a box of ammo, looking through the scope at the road ahead to see if any of the Mavericks on the porch had seen their action. They were waiting for someone, it looked like. Well, whoever they were waiting for, they would soon find Unit 8, she thought, and it would be their last discovery. "Team Alpha, attack." She turned to Acrystos and surveyed the ammo crates. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

            Acrystos had been examining the downed robots, making sure that they really were out of commission. She looked up at her commander and nodded. "Sabotage?"

            "I don't think we should leave the Mavericks anything they can use," Damia agreed, turning back to the scene ahead while Acrystos removed her pack from beneath her gray cape and recovered the charges she'd been issued before the mission began. Damia examined the machine gun, noting that a full string of large adaman bullets—more commonly called Armor Renders—had been loaded before their arrival. She noted a nearby box of ammo, and glanced back at the scene ahead as the battle unfolded. She stepped to the ammo box and dragged it over to her, and then settled herself in near the machine gun, lining up her sights.

            Acrystos saw her. "Boss, you gotta be kidding."

            "I said we were gonna get this party started," Damia responded with an easy grin. "I wasn't lying."

____________________

            "Team Alpha, attack," Wallace and Stromm heard on their communicators. They glanced at each other and received nods. It was time. Wallace already had his sights lined up and the distance marked. He steadied his hands, fighting off the chill, and inhaled deeply and slowly.

            Cordan the snow fox looked to Firs and Largo, who were shivering and uncomfortable. He, too, felt that something was wrong, but he was not about to look weak in front of these humanoids. Where the hell was Gerritt? On his way back, for sure, Cordan thought. Who would want to stay out there any longer than they had to?

            Firs tilted his head slightly to look at the ammo dump in the distance. He couldn't make anything out with all the snow, but he did see something, and that reassured him. It was always nice to have a machine gun to guard their flank. The humanoid turned back, wondering how much longer they'd have to wait in this cold until—

            Cordan was turning to face him when the fox's head seemed to shred itself. The face opened up and black coolant spurted out like a geyser. The suddenly headless Reploid fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Firs froze at the sight, totally unprepared for and horrified by what he saw.

            Largo's characteristic nervousness paid off, and he sprang into action first. He leapt at Firs and dragged the stunned humanoid back towards the shed, foiling Wallace's aim, but that didn't matter, because—

            The S88 missile impacted the roof of the shed, and the radar antenna actually launched into the air like a rocket, landing in shambles along the road to the ammo dump. The roof burst into flames and collapsed immediately, spraying the lower levels of the small shed with flame and shrapnel.

            It was Largo's turn to be horrified. He and Firs were taken aback by the impact above them, and both froze temporarily. Wallace got a bead on Firs and depressed his trigger. Hans and Tortal burst out of the door, ramming the two humanoids hard. "Move!" Tortal shouted, drowning out the sound of Wallace's round slamming harmlessly into the wooden porch. Hans saw the splinters, though, and after seeing Cordan's body he knew right away that there was a sniper about.

            The four Mavericks fled the porch and raced down the road towards their ammo dump, not about to head down the winding road Gerritt was still on for fear that the Hunters were there waiting for them. At least by their ammo dump they had a machine gun, and could be safe—

            The sound reached them even before the sight. The machine gun blasts sent a tremor through the air that stopped Hans in his tracks even before he saw the yellow light of the tracers. "No, no!" the humanoid shouted in panic. "We're not them, we're not—" His right arm came off at the shoulder, and his chest and generator ruptured before he had time to scream, and he died thinking that his own people had mistaken him for the attacking Hunters.

            The tracers seemed nonstop and were spread throughout the somewhat narrow path. There was no place for the Mavericks to run except back to the sniper's domain, which all preferred to the madness of the machine gun attack. Firs turned to run but something that felt rather like a train hit him in the back and flipped him forward through the air. Four more shots hit him during his flight and he touched down in a mangled heap of exposed circuitry and shredded metal. Tortal was heavily armored and thus the slowest of the bunch. He hadn't gotten as far as the others when the shooting began, but he was in contrast the slowest to retreat back into "safety". Damia landed two shots in his shelled back, and seeing him stagger she concentrated her Armor Renders on him. Tortal fell heavily to the ground and lay there while Damia continued to spray him, though his shell absorbed most of the damage.

            For her part, Damia was feeling rather mighty. The machine gun trembled like a jackhammer in her hands, but she kept a firm grip and delivered what she thought was the proper death to the people who wanted to reinstate nuclear weapons as a viable way to fight a war. Acrystos busily set charges on ammo boxes, and stopped once to watch her commander in action. She was a bit taken aback by the brutality of the attack, but she remembered that she, too, had made use of these mounted weapons, and at the time she wouldn't have traded them for anything in the world. "Have fun, Damia," she whispered, her words drowned by the wind and the machine gun's roar.

____________________

            Neither of them had noticed Gerritt standing at the mouth of the trail with trembling knees and wide eyes. The raccoon had heard the sounds of battle and immediately made a break for the ammo dump. There was no safety at the radar station, he thought. The ammo dump had a machine gun to guard it, and he'd heard it in action as he made his approach. The sound had reassured him at first, but now he saw that it wasn't his people who were manning the weapon. Two figures in gray capes were at the ammo dump, and one was firing the machine gun towards screaming forms that had to be Gerritt's comrades from the shed. He thought he could make out a body pushed to the side of the dump, and that clinched things for him.

            The Maverick didn't know what to do. He had two probable Hunters in front of him, winning the battle even before it had really begun, and they didn't see him. However, if they had been good enough to approach undetected, what was to guarantee that Gerritt would make it in close enough to open fire? No, that wouldn't work. What, then?

            And then the Maverick did the best thing he could possibly have done: he radioed in to headquarters.

____________________

            "Radar 2 this is Seraph," Diavus said from the command center of Seraph Castle.

            "We're under attack," a small, shaky voice came in, all but drowned by the wind and…something else.

            "Repeat that, Radar 2."

            "_We're under attack_!" Gerritt fairly shouted. "Radar base 2 is under attack!"

            "Shit," Diavus breathed, now able to make out machine gun fire in the background. "What's your status?"

            "Hell, I don't know! They took the ammo dump, they're on the machine gun…there were explosions, I haven't seen the base yet!"

            "Settle down, settle down. Where are you now?"

            "Mouth…mouth of the cache trail. I'm at the mouth of the cache trail!"

            "Good. Stay there, don't move, don't attack, don't let them get to you. Find someplace to hide and wait this out. God damn," he added after he broke the connection. Then, switching to another castle frequency, Diavus dialed the security boss. "Bit, we have a problem."

____________________

            Hide and wait? Hide where? The Hunters were coming up from behind him, and there were sure as shit enemies in front of him, and who _knew _what would be on the sides? Gerritt's mind lost its sense of reason. He looked up at the two Hunters, who still hadn't acknowledged him, and then to the standard issue assault rifle he carried at his side. He would probably die here, he realized. No matter where he went, the Hunters would storm this place, and he would die. He would die just like his brother, cut down by Hunter bastards who didn't give a damn about anything except what the humans told them to do. Well, he'd be damned if he didn't die doing something to these pricks who had shattered his life and hunted him like a dog. Resolved, Gerritt raised his rifle and charged out into the storm, heading towards the ammo dump like a bat out of hell. His footsteps were masked completely by the roar of the gunfire and the howl of the wind, like so many other things that night. One Hunter was on the machine gun, and the other was doing something to the ammo crates. This one looked up to watch her friend on the gun. _Women_, Gerritt saw. He locked onto the one on the machine gun and thought, _Bitches._

            Acrystos was mesmerized for the moment by the memories revived by the machine gun attack when she first noticed that something was wrong. Something was whizzing by her, and it wasn't wind. Then the machine gun stopped after its maybe thirty seconds of activation, and Damia slumped to the ground, and the white earth was suddenly tainted by black Reploid blood.

            Acrystos sprang into action automatically, as usual. She leapt from the area of the ammo crates, hoping to draw the hidden enemy's fire. The worst-case scenario, she thought, was for one of those bullets to hit an ammo crate that she'd just mined, and start an explosion that would incinerate Damia and probably Acrystos with it. Her rifle went up and she fired a burst in a random direction. As she had hoped, the attacker responded with bursts in her direction, telling her his location. She still couldn't quite make him out due to the damned blizzard, but as she danced around she saw that his shots no longer fell into a set pattern; he was just shooting wildly, hoping to take her down with a wide spread. It didn't work that way, Acrystos thought to herself, running carefully from side to side and slowly closing in on the Maverick. Finally she could make out his outline…he was a raccoon, she saw, and he looked just as scared as the other Mavericks had been.

            Her plan was to keep Gerritt busy while she put herself in a position to attack. Unfortunately, Gerritt gave up just seconds before she locked on. He figured that if he hadn't taken her down by now he was in deep trouble, and made a break for it, disappearing back into the trail. Acrystos saw and gave chase with fury…this prick had shot down her commander, after all. She rounded a snow hill and looked down the trail, which was rapidly filling with more snow, and saw the raccoon disappear over a mound of white powder, leaving the trail and the radar base behind.

            "Dammit!" she said aloud, wanting to give chase and destroy this flea-ridden bastard for what he'd done, but knowing that her unit needed her more, and her commander in particular. Acrystos dashed back to the machine gun, running as fast as she could in the snow, and found Damia sitting up against a crate.

            "What…happened?" Unit 8's commander asked in a labored voice.

            "I screwed up," Acrystos said, kneeling to examine Damia's wounds. Indeed she had screwed up. She should have been checking the area while Damia worked on the machine gun. Why had she forgotten to look? _Nice one, Miss Professional_, she chastised herself, hoping that this blunder wouldn't cost her commander her life. That issue was up for debate, she saw. Everyone in Aegis had some skill in medical practice, and though Unit 8's official medic was Brant Everett, Acrystos knew enough of what she was doing to evaluate her commander's chances. Damia had two holes in her side, low enough that her chest generator hadn't been hit, but the shots had tunneled in deep, and who knew how far into her abdomen they'd penetrated? They had to be solid bullets, Acrystos knew. There were no exit wounds, and lasers went right through their targets. Adaman bullets might well have snapped Damia in half, but these were not adaman bullets. They were probably the cheap variant that the Mavericks got from supporters in Steel Alley.

            "What's going on?" Damia asked again, referring to something different this time.

            "It sounds like it's over," Acrystos responded after a moment. She'd been so into her brief battle and then her examination of her commander—and good friend—that she hadn't paid attention to the sounds of the combat coming from up ahead. The last she'd seen, Damia had taken out another humanoid—Largo—and then the raccoon had started shooting. The shed was burning and collapsing…it appeared that Stromm had done his job.

            "Check," Damia weakly gasped out the order. Acrystos activated her communicator to do so.

____________________

            Tortal had gotten to his feet when the shooting stopped. He didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't one to question luck. His shell was destroyed, he knew, but while he was battered and bleeding he was still alive. He had to get back to the shed. Maybe he could hide there. He sure as hell couldn't hide back at the ammo dump. The trail, he realized. He could hide on the patrol trail, and maybe find Gerritt…Gerritt was still out there, wasn't he?

____________________

            Peter Stromm raised his reloaded S88 and locked onto the lower level of the radar shed. He watched as the turtle Reploid limped back towards the shed. The machine gun idea had been a nice touch, he thought. Why had Damia stopped? Oh well. That wasn't his concern. The S88 beeped and Stromm moved his finger to the trigger. He recalled as the weapon shuddered in his grip that the Mavericks had used RPGs in their Sub-City 3 ambush. "See how you like it, you sunzabitches," Stromm muttered, watching his rocket fly, a black shape in a night lined with white wind. The projectile hit the wall and exploded as it passed through, all but disintegrating the wood frame of the shed and bringing everything crashing down. Shrapnel sprayed the turtle and the shockwave sent him onto his ruined back.

            Henry Wallace centered his sights on the turtle's head. In doing so he had to view the rest of the Maverick's body, and he figured he was doing the guy a favor. He almost felt sorry for the enemy, but remembered what the Mavericks wanted to do to Megacity 5, and his pity ended as he pulled the trigger.

            "Team Alpha, report," Wallace and Stromm heard a minute later.

            "Mission accomplished," Stromm reported.

            "No further targets," Wallace confirmed, before asking the obvious question. "Where's Damia, Acrystos?"

            "She's down," Alpha Four responded, somewhat sheepishly, and the other two jumped at the news. "She took a few shots to the side, and the shells are still swimming around in her belly somewhere."

            "Shit," Stromm observed. "You need help?"

            "Yeah," Acrystos responded. "Call X and tell him to have a medic ready when the 17th gets to our rendezvous point. Then call Signas and tell him to send in the Ravens."

            "Can do," Stromm acknowledged. He was also in charge of the distance radio. Before he could begin his transmission, his communicator beeped again.

            "Team Bravo has completed its mission," Castle's voice said. "Request permission to retreat to rendezvous point."

            "Acknowledged," Stromm replied. "Make sure Everett is ready with his tools. The Commander took a few hits."

            "Jesus," Castle said without thinking. "She alive?"

            "For now. Let's hurry."

            "Yeah," Castle said, switching off his communicator and looking at Brant Everett. "Damia's hit. You may have to stabilize her when we reach the rendezvous point."

            Everett blinked and nodded. To his knowledge his commander had never taken a hit, at least not on a sneaking mission. Was this some kind of bad omen?

____________________

            In Hunter Headquarters, Alia got the message and immediately conveyed Stromm's request for a medic to X's 17th, which would reach the rendezvous point with Unit 0 before the other units closed in. Then she switched frequencies and contacted Signas on his direct line. "Commander Signas, sir! Unit 8 has neutralized both radio stations."

            "Roger that," Signas replied from his own post near Dr. Cain and Caligula. "Jimmy," he said after switching his own frequency. "Commence your attack."

            "Copy that," James Taggart responded in Raven 15, and then sent a message of his own.

____________________

            Bit and Byte had never moved so fast in their lives. Mavericks rushed to man their posts at the antiaircraft guns that lined the outer upper deck of Seraph Castle, and many who did not have guns to command used shoulder mounted RPGs. They lay in wait, knowing that the squad of Ravens would come soon, but not knowing when, now that their radar had been crippled. Nevertheless their readiness would surprise the Hunters, who did not know that Gerritt had gotten an alert off.

            A Maverick decked out in gray armor leaned against his own antiaircraft gun. He was not as nervous as his comrades. He'd seen an air raid already, and figured he could easily handle another one. This was the same Maverick who had opened fire on Alec Tremont on his reconnaissance mission, and his name was Optim. He watched the horizon and waited in anticipation. There would be plenty of targets, he was sure, and wanted nothing more than to down an enemy plane.

            Bit's final stop was to the security command post, where he activated all of Storm Eagle's sky eye drones. Maybe they would crash into one of the Hunter jets, Bit reasoned. Meanwhile, Byte fetched the key to the roof SAM battery and rejoined his brother at this spot. They keyed the proper controls and the launcher came to life.

            "Missiles!" Bit called out, and Mavericks went to fulfill their task. They would have a full supply, Bit promised himself. There was no way the Hunters would catch them unawares, not after all their careful preparation. He wished that they'd activated that second SAM battery, but there just hadn't been the time. They'd have to rely on this one again, though it had served them rather well last time, Bit reminded himself.

            Mortar appeared shortly afterwards, though he did nothing but observe. He had a vague feeling that he was putting himself in much more danger than was necessary, but at this point he was curious as to what a ground-to-air battle would be like. And so he stood and watched and waited, wondering what he would see.

____________________

            Eleven Raven jets congregated above the mountain trails and sped forward through the night. Visibility was low with blizzard and lack of daylight, but pilots relied more on computers than sight nowadays. They had hovered in this area for quite a while, assisting the ground troops when needed, and taking out pesky Maverick encampments when they found them. Now, their real mission was about to begin.

            James Taggart hadn't been in a flight mission in too long. He savored the thrill of flight even now more than he had upon takeoff. They'd refuel in shifts after the castle bombardment and continue to maintain their perimeter. Now they sped in a group towards Seraph Castle. Taggart figured that the Mavericks would suspect some kind of aerial attack, but there was no way for them to know when if those radar bases were gone.

            It didn't take long to get into position. The Ravens reduced their speed somewhat and waited until they passed the proper coordinates. Then the group split up and the jets drifted away to take out their assigned targets.

____________________

            "I've got a number of targets here, sir," the Maverick manning the SAM battery reported.

            "Fire!" Bit ordered, and the Maverick did just that. The launcher spewed out its cluster of missiles, and again they streaked through the night like little comets. They wound up spreading apart as they neared the dividing cluster of jets, with each missile acquiring a different target.

____________________

            But this time the Hunters could shoot back. Taggart took the lead, and focused his Vulcan cannons at the oncoming missiles. The rapid-fire weapons flared repeatedly and after a second the missile headed for Taggart's jet exploded prematurely due to the huge bullet's impact. The aerial commander continued shooting at the other missiles, though he didn't down any others.

            He didn't have to. Tremont shot down the one headed his way, and another that was headed towards Raven 8. Raven 4 took out another, and that was the end of the first Maverick attack.

____________________

            Not that it discouraged them. "Reload!" Bit shouted. "Reload now!"

            "They're getting closer," Byte pointed out.

            Bit spat a curse and left the SAM battery, headed now to the antiaircraft cannons. "Weapons free, Mavericks! Kick their asses outta the sky!"

____________________

            They were more prepared than he'd expected, Taggart thought, bringing Raven 15 around to the right side of Seraph Castle. It didn't matter. Taggart selected his Sidewinder variant and quickly locked onto his individual target—the SAM battery that had killed his airman, Delgado. He swerved his jet to the side to avoid the tracers sent by one of the antiaircraft guns, and pulled up to get a final target lock.

____________________

            Optim didn't recognize Raven 13—they all looked alike—but its pilot definitely recognized him. Alec remembered Optim's lasers passing below his jet, and wondering when the dumb Maverick would raise his cannon and thus end Alec's life. It had never happened, nor now would it ever. Alec sent a hail of gunfire at the Maverick and his post. Optim jumped, unused to being attacked, and his attack halted briefly. Alec sped past him and doubled back, selecting his Sidewinder and turning to face his target. His targeting computer gave him a confirmative beep and he pressed the proper button.

            Optim had used the lull to realign his targets. He pressed his own triggers and the large laser cannons roared, but Alec simply pulled away to the right…and yet, something was still speeding towards Optim. The gray Maverick swerved his guns in its direction, frantically hoping to stop that menace before it reached him, but in doing so he only hastened his own doom.

            The miniature Sidewinder hit the antiaircraft guns and exploded with far more force than an S88 missile ever could muster. Optim was disintegrated almost instantly, and his mounted weapon along with him…indeed, a chunk of the castle roof was now gone, and a huge plume of flame and smoke rose into the sky.

            Alec watched this and was satisfied. "And that, you jackass," he said to the now nonexistent Maverick, "was for Carlos." Then he pulled up and regrouped, heading back to his own rendezvous point.

____________________

            Byte saw Raven 15 approaching and he began to panic. The entire castle shook whenever a Sidewinder hit an antiaircraft cannon, and it looked like a missile under this Raven's wing was heating up.

            "Fire!" the big Maverick shouted.

            "We're not fully loaded," his assistant protested.

            "Then run!" With that Byte threw up his hands and ran for his life, wisely followed by the two terrified SAM operators.

            They ran not a moment too soon. James Taggart sent his Sidewinder seconds later, and it hit dead on target, igniting not only itself but the extra SAM missiles that Bit had called for. The resulting explosion was terrific, and removed much of the exterior armor covering of that corner of Seraph Castle. Every standing Maverick fell to their knees, and the advancing Ravens had a party, opening fire with their Vulcan cannons and sending in their final Sidewinders.

____________________

            Bit's first conscious thought was to find his brother. When he did he stopped in shock; Byte's armor was charred and in some cases totally broken, and one of the two Mavericks who followed him was missing an arm and half of his face. The sight totally disillusioned the surviving Mavericks, even as another Sidewinder hit and destroyed the final antiaircraft cannon and shook the base once more. Miraculously, Seraph Castle's reinforced skeletal structure held, and the fort did not collapse inward on itself. The Ravens were not big enough to carry missiles powerful enough to totally neutralize Seraph Castle, but they could punch holes in it, for sure, and punch they had. Now Mavericks ran every which way, shouting random curses, screams, or rants as they evacuated from the roofs. Mavericks dropped their RPGs after realizing that it was futile to keep shooting—unlike S88s, the RPGs did not lock onto their targets.

            "Stand and fight!" Bit shouted at the top of his robotic lungs. "Cowards! Don't abandon your posts!"

            "What the hell can we do?" Byte asked, coughing. "They completely destroyed us, Bit!"

            "He's right," a new voice said, with surprising power despite the circumstances. Bit and Byte turned to face Mortar, who was collecting himself after being spilled onto the floor. It looked like a round had scratched his arm, and given the size of the rounds, the scratch was more of a big bloody gash. The fire of battle had not gone out of his steely eyes and wizened face, but reason prevailed over madness and he gestured to the doors leading into the relative safety of Seraph Castle's internal corridors. "We're no match. Retreat immediately." Then he was gone, headed to the door he'd just pointed out.

            "God damn it!" Bit swore, invoking a god he didn't worship.

            "He's right," Byte said simply, and with that the big Reploid stomped towards the door. Bit glared at the jets, which were coming around to cover the roof a second time. Then even his resolution gave way to fear and he made a break for it, rushing into the door and sealing it behind him, so the Hunters wouldn't be able to send a missile through it, if that were possible. Unfortunately this act prevented the few Mavericks still on the roof from escaping, and the Hunters were not in a merciful mood. The Ravens flew over the roof of Seraph Castle, spraying it with gunfire and eliminating the cowering Mavericks. Some despaired completely and leapt from the roof, plummeting to a death of no less finality but at least of their own choosing.

____________________

            "Ravens report," Taggart said after the second pass. His individual pilots responded positively, and, satisfied that all targets were taken out, Taggart ordered a retreat. The eleven Ravens clustered again as they left Seraph Castle in their wake, and as per the plan five of them returned to Hunter HQ for refueling while the other six orbited the Maverick Palace and kept constant vigilance. Any projectile that entered the air would be dealt with using the most extreme prejudice. Alec Tremont led the returning group, and James Taggart held command of the second.

____________________

            "Jesus, Mortar!" Malevex breathed, surveying the arm wound, and then getting a look at Byte. "How bad?"

            "No chance," Bit answered bitterly. The outer defense had been his responsibility, and he had a right to feel bitter about his failure. Still, he could hardly be blamed for the said failure. Malevex himself couldn't figure out a way to stop those Ravens, except maybe for more SAM batteries, which they simply did not have. "Those bastards came like the hosts of hell, and…well, you felt the tremors!"

            "Fortify our internal defenses," Mortar suggested. "And get the plan in motion. We have to get the Hunters out of here. We stand absolutely no chance against all of them!"

            "Get yourselves cleaned up," Malevex said to Mortar and Byte. "Get me a casualty estimate," he said next to Bit, who nodded resignedly. Malevex departed them and headed to the castle command chamber. He punched in the proper code and reached the proper authority figure. "Outer defenses have fallen, sir. I need permission to put the plan in motion."

            "It's already begun," Sigma's calm voice responded. "Secure the wounded and get them the help they need. Chances are they may have to fight again. Don't worry about the Ravens," he added, sensing his soldier's chief fear. "They can't do any more than they've already done. The Hunters have had their fun…now it's time for us to have ours," Sigma finished coldly, and broke the communication.

            "And I bet I know what that means," Malevex said to himself, tilting his head in the direction of Zero's chamber. The Maverick raised his head to the ceiling and inhaled deeply, calming himself down. Weak as they were compared to some other world armies, the Hunters were so much the superior of the Mavericks as far as sheer power went, and Mortar was right. They would never survive unless they got rid of the Hunter host. Well, they had the right tool for _that_, Malevex thought as he placed his future with finality in the hands of Gredam and _Gallagher_.


	34. Master Plan

Chapter Thirty-Three: Master Plan 

            It was time. Krysta turned her computer over to a human technician and rose from her place. Her pistol was already in her belt holster, and her axe was waiting for her in the pile of weapons belonging to Zegmann's remaining troops. The final pieces of mobile artillery were on their way, and now Zegmann's stragglers were collecting their weapons and headed for the teleportation point.

            Krysta knew one of the Unit 15 troops, a Reploid named Xu. Xu was patterned after a Japanese samurai soldier, though she kept an RPG bazooka handy in addition to her trusty energy katana. Krysta met her as she collected her axe, and they shook hands and reintroduced themselves.

            "Heading out with us, eh?" Xu asked, tampering with her RPG.

            "Yeah," Krysta replied, giving her axe one or two practice swings. "Archer ran off to war and left me to rot."

"That's what you get for being computer literate," Xu declared with a chuckle. "You're probably better off heading out last. All the mines and shit will have been removed now…well, I hope," she added, with a wry smile for a most un-wry situation. "The downside is that as soon as we get there, the battle really gets going."

"How long will that take?" Krysta asked, strapping her axe to her back.

"Figure a half hour before Erich gets there and the fun starts…figure another half hour before we get there." She grinned at Krysta's disappointment. "Believe me, hon. You'll see combat of some sort. I don't know why you're so eager to find it, but rest assured that it'll be out there."

"It's not that I'm eager," Krysta protested. "It's just that I've only been on one Hunting mission, and I got mangled in the process. I want to see whether or not I can really do this job."

Xu nodded, understanding. "It's not for everybody. Usually, when we have a crisis like this, certain things become clear to those who survive the fight. If this isn't for you, you'll know."

Krysta absorbed this, and hoped against hope that she was indeed cut out for this. There were things and people she'd gotten used to by now, and she didn't really want to leave them behind. _I'll just have to wait and see_, she told herself, wondering just how long she'd have to wait.

Scythe yawned. This computer work was getting more and more boring as time went on. He would rather be out there fighting, he told himself, finding his enemies and taking them down when they least expected it. He was a hunter in the most literal meaning, and enjoyed stalking his prey and taking it down with skill and speed. Unfortunately, wars called more for swinging his scythe around in circles than for sneaking and slaying. Too bad.

For his part, Nightchaser was itching for the same combat, only he didn't have any preferences about stalking or mass slaughter. He just wanted to fight. There was a war going on, and he was stuck at a computer. He couldn't even head out with Zegmann, like that Krysta brat. He belonged on a battlefield, not behind a goddamned computer. Still, he had things to do here, and after this he was free. He'd leave this place behind and start a new life, he told himself. He just hoped he wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Units 17 and 0 arrived at the general rendezvous point at the mouth of the road leading into Seraph Castle's valley. The large 17th, organized into squadrons led by members of Unit 0 and Unit 17th's sergeants, spread out to secure the area, finding no Maverick presence nearby and grateful for it.

What they did find, however, was Unit 8. Delates left his squadron and found Lifesaver the medic, who had come along with Unit 17 while Tiberius prepared Hunter HQ to service the wounded upon their return home. They found the eight Hunters near X. Seven were either talking to X or tending to the eighth, who was lying still on the snowy ground.

"Both radar stations are down," Peter Stromm was telling X. "We neutralized any Mavericks we saw, and I don't think any reinforcements were called in. The Mavericks lost their assets and they know it."

"Do they ever," X affirmed. "Taggart gave them hell with his Sidewinder barrages." He glanced down at Damia. Acrystos had her commander's head in her lap to prevent it from being buried by snow, and she was huddled over her stricken friend. Damia's face was contorted in pain, but she was still alive and awake and was managing herself extremely well. Brant Everett was still at her side, and turned to Lifesaver when he arrived.

"She's gonna need some kind of invasive surgery," Everett began. "I have most of the tools, but I didn't wanna start something here without some kind of reinforcements."

"How long can she last?" Lifesaver asked without fanfare.

"Long enough, I think." Everett motioned to the twin holes in his commander's side. "They used armor piercing bullets, but not the adaman variety. If you can get those things out of her, she should be fine until someone gets her back to base."

"Agreed," Lifesaver affirmed after a quick inspection of the wounds. Everett had done what he could, the field medic noted, but too often that wasn't enough. "She can take a teleportation, I think."

"Not if it might cause the bullets to burst," Everett pointed out.

"Right, so let's get to work on that." Lifesaver already had his tool kit out, and the first thing he did was inject Damia with a tranquilizer of sorts. There was actually no real practical way to just deactivate a Reploid, and so Lifesaver and other medics relied on substances that slowed internal programs to the point where the Reploid would be catatonic until the effects wore off. A similar substance had been used to stun Zero in Sub-City 3. Damia's face relaxed almost instantly, and Acrystos felt the tension go out of her shivering body. "I need you two to keep her from moving," Lifesaver said to Everett and Acrystos. All the while Delates stood and watched, concern etched on his face. Acrystos noticed, but didn't say anything. Delates was close to Damia, she remembered. He was probably just as worried as Unit 8 was about their leader.

X was momentarily uplifted by the concern Unit 8 had for its commander. The unit had always been known for the extreme loyalty between members—which helped, in guerilla missions when you had to trust the other guy to do his job just right or screw up the whole mission. None of the guerillas would take another assignment until they heard from X that Damia was getting some kind of attention. Well, this unit hadn't changed much over the years, X remembered. All the teammates had worked with the same people for years, and some bonds had surely grown. It was akin to Unit 0's devotion to rescuing its own commander.

X looked out ahead of him into the snowy blackness. He'd seen the photos of Seraph Castle…a tall, wide rectangular fort with several catwalks surrounding the outer building at various levels. The roof had once been the key of its defense, but now it still burned with the aftereffects of Taggart's bombardment. The "castle" wasn't fancy at all, and yet it was the most prominent threat to world peace at the moment. He wondered what it would look like when he could make out with his own optics? The rooftop fire was visible, but only barely. The night was well on already, and in a few hours it would be dawn. The attack would be on by then, X was sure. According to Alia's latest report, Archer, Mason, and Zion would be turning up shortly, and their large units with them. Zegmann and the bulk of his people were already approaching. It wouldn't be long now, X thought. Still, it was the waiting that bothered him. The Mavericks already knew that the first blow had fallen, and they by now would be planning their own counterattack.

The not knowing was the hardest part. Still, it wasn't hard for Zero to guess what was happening out there. There was a video monitor in his cell, but no one had ever bothered to turn it on. And even if a display did show up, what guarantee was there that Zero would be viewing the events taking place outside Seraph Castle? For all he knew Malevex could have the thing set to the Weather Channel. _Now _that _would be torture._

The explosions that shook the castle to its foundation, however, could only be coming from one source: a Hunter aerial barrage. Zero knew that Signas had planned a raid using Taggart's team when drafting BROKEN HALO, and he would bet his ponytail that he'd just felt the effects of that raid. That meant that the main squad wouldn't be far behind. In a few hours, Seraph Castle would cease to exist.

That was enough for Zero to lean back and treat himself to a smug smile. He didn't know what Sigma wanted to do with him, but no matter what it was he'd never be able to pull it off. Even if, in the worst case scenario, Sigma escaped to Brazil and brought Zero with him, the Crimson Hunter would still just bide his time and wait for his opportunity.

He'd been in this cell too long. His mind tended to wander after lengthy periods of inactivity, and Zero couldn't stand that. At first it had been easy to keep his mind blank, but now the sedatives were wearing off in full, and he was fully alert once more. His no longer sluggish mind was recalling earlier conversations and earlier dreams, and Zero couldn't help but wonder if Sigma had somehow forced him to dream about Iris. He didn't know how such a feat was possible, but the scenario made sense in his mind. Time and time again, Sigma had tried to turn Zero against the Maverick Hunters. When Serges, Agile, and Violen revived Zero during the second uprising, he'd been reprogrammed to fight against his old comrades. However the program had been weak, and Zero had overcome it, much to the X-Hunters' dismay. He'd then destroyed his clone, a cheap copy constructed hastily by Sigma, and used the incident to spite the Maverick King, swearing that he'd never fall in league with the Mavericks. Naturally, Zero's chief fear here was that Sigma would try to reprogram him again. However there was simply no time for that, not anymore anyway. The Hunters would be upon them shortly, and Sigma would have much more important things to worry about. So, that meant that at the very least Sigma was going to try and throw Zero into a pool of doubt so that he could simmer and grow weak for the next encounter…

_The next encounter. _There was always a "next time" with Sigma, wasn't there? And in that sense Sigma had already won. Zero's mind raced with images of Iris's shattered body in his arms, and images of Sigma and Wily taunting him in his sleep. He remembered Malevex, accusing him of aiding the organization that had done such great wrongs to the ebon Maverick and his counterparts. He remembered Sigma in person, telling him again of his true purpose and his powerlessness before fate. Fate…there was that simple four-letter word that even he, a machine, could not escape.

For indeed he could not, he told himself. He'd tried, but he'd still submitted to his innate rage and killed Colonel and Iris, and he'd allowed that same rage to aid him as he killed all the other Mavericks he'd ever come up against. He was a killer, and he accepted that. A murderer, even, after what happened with Iris. He knew furthermore that he was built to destroy, not to preserve. He was doing a little bit of both, but, he admitted, he was doing more destroying than anything else. That was the life that his father Wily had intended for him, and it was the life he was living, and would continue to live, despite his efforts to be a decent person.

            But did that make him a Maverick?

            That was the big question. Where did you make the line that distinguished an indiscriminate killer from a manic who just hated humans? Zero would be the first to admit that he wasn't all that fond of the hairless monkeys, but he certainly didn't HATE them. Well, he hated _some _of them, but some was not all, and a Maverick was one who hated all humans…even though you were branded a Maverick even for killing just one. It was a big circle.

            But what really confused Zero was Wily's real goal in creating him. "After him!" the deranged scientist had screamed in nightmare after countless nightmare. "He is my nemesis! Our rivalry is what gives me motivation in life. Now go…destroy him!" Zero knew, as did most every sod that lived in this day in age, that Doctor Albert Wily had but one real nemesis, and that was Mega Man, the blue hero who lived decades earlier. Zero himself was fairly well acquainted with a chap named Mega Man X…another Mega Man, another creation of Doctor Thomas Light, who was number two on Wily's shit list. Nemesis? Mega Man? Mega Man _X?_ Was he, Zero, the final son of Wily, created for the sole purpose of eliminating Mega Man X? His best friend? The man he'd sacrificed his life for?

            And if so…then what did that make him? A Maverick? That was what the world would call him. He would kill X, the champion Maverick Hunter, and thus be hunted by his former allies…and being called Maverick Hunters, who were now Hunting Zero, he would then have to be…a Maverick! Wow!

            But no, he decided, Mavericks were Reploids who rebelled against harsh human rule. To destroy X would earn him the wrath of the Hunters, but he still would not be a Maverick, and his hatred for Sigma and his ilk would not be any less. He was a man without friends, then. What was he?

            _You're a Hunter, dumbass._ He blinked at that simple yet elusive conclusion. _You fight Mavericks, therefore you are a Hunter. You do NOT hate X, and you will NOT kill him. Ever. No matter what Wily wanted. No matter what Sigma wants now. You are and will remain a Hunter._

            But Sigma would try to make him think otherwise, Zero knew. He had to hold to his conclusion, or else the Maverick King would throw him right back into confusion, and he couldn't have that. Not now, when he had to keep an eye out for escape opportunities.

            Near the end of Zero's thought process, the iron door in the back of the room slid back and cleared a path. A familiar figure strolled in with long, stiff strides. Zero raised his head and smiled a dry smile at Commander Sigma, eager to get a shot of his own in before Sigma started rambling about whatever he would ramble about this time. "Quite a storm."

            "Meh." The Maverick waved it off, collapsing rather haphazardly in a chair. His reaction to Taggart's resounding victory was extremely odd. He was almost…giddy? Something else was up, Zero realized. But what? Well, he supposed it would only be a matter of time. "All part of the plan, my boy, all part of the plan."

            "Screwy ass plan," Zero observed, feeling Sigma out, searching for more information on this plan he'd heard so much about. "Stand around in a stupor while your base gets fragged?"

            Suddenly Sigma threw his head back and laughed. Something Zero said had set him off, and the Crimson Hunter found himself blinking in confusion. Finally Sigma regained control of himself and fixed Zero with a quirky grin. "You're such a lucky guesser, Zero. Just like that you've defined my plan to a T. Only, of course, it's not my own base I'm trying to frag."

            "Ours, then?" Zero frowned and shook his head. "Won't happen, Siggy. We've got an aerial perimeter set up. Any nukes you send up will come down real fast." He hoped. Taggart was SUPPOSED to be setting up a perimeter. That's how BROKEN HALO had been drafted.

            "Oh, don't be so narrow minded!" Sigma chuckled and leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. He was getting comfortable, Zero saw. That meant he planned to be here for a while. "We don't have missile launchers here, Zero. Nor would it be convenient for us to plant the Buzzbomb warhead anywhere near Hunter HQ. The sweeps you people make on a daily basis make it too risky, and we only have a limited supply, after all." The Maverick King grinned. "I wonder if we'll be able to hear it from here?"

            "You won't even get close!" Zero protested, not getting it and hating the fact. "The Hunters will be storming this place in no time. Seraph Castle is going down, pal! Nothing you can do will change that. Nothing!"

            "We'll see," Sigma allowed, absently. "But even so, Zero, as I've said, we have other assets available to us."

            "Brazil?" Zero shook his head again. "How long do you think it will be before the Hunters find out about it? And what makes you think you can afford the loss of soldiers this battle here will cost? Your numbers are thin, Sigma. You can't argue that point. And what happens when you lose one or more of your precious generals? Who will train your new recruits? You?"

            "You're damn right, me!" Sigma finally displayed some anger. "I do not depend on Terrornova for all my basic needs! Their skills and their instructions are a great aid, but they are not the core of our army. And don't you be so naïve as to assume that I haven't thought of Hunter interference in Brazil. According to the base commander, your friend Gate is planning an attack this very minute." Sigma spat on the floor. He evidently did not think much of Gate. "Brazil is the default plan. But you know me. When have I never had a default plan for my default plan?"

            "Jesus," Zero said, annoyed and showing it. "You and your goddamn scheming. Though when dogs get whipped as often as you do, I suppose it helps to have a lot of trees to cower behind."

            Sigma's eyes seemed to flare even brighter with intense hatred. For a second Zero thought the Maverick would attack him for that, but instead Sigma exhaled his anger, his breath coming out in a long, low hiss. His eyes dimmed somewhat but he still glowered at his captive. It was time, Sigma decided, to get down to business. "Brazil will suffice. Even now we are fortifying our position." He leaned back, resting his fingertips against each other in a pyramid shape. "Perhaps, Zero, it's about time I gave you all the details. Our plan is in action even as we speak. I'll present you a visual tour," he added with a gesture to the viewing screen in the back of the room. "But first, Brazil. Tell me, did you know Split Mushroom is still interested in biological warfare?"

            At that Zero's blood boiled. He himself had not battled Mushroom, but X had told him all he needed to know. The little prick had used Colonel's uprising as a diversion for the Hunters while he worked on viruses in his secluded tower. He'd wanted to unleash the viruses on the humans in Megacity 5, under orders from Sigma, but X had put a stop to his plans. Mushroom had somehow escaped X's onslaught and reappeared inside Final Weapon, where he was again destroyed at X's hands. Zero did not doubt X's optics—Mushroom had exploded. One had, at least. He supposed that the diminutive Maverick had sent a clone of himself into Final Weapon, which was fitting, being as he was a cloning Reploid by nature. Now he was back, sitting in Brazil, probably serving as the base commander, and developing god knew what in his spare time. "Mushroom is a failure, Sigma. X proved that."

            "Mushroom's place was not in combat," Sigma countered. "His place is in the laboratories, while his clones distract his foes. Now he can serve his purpose. Yes, Brazil will suffice. Mushroom will make sure of that."

***

            Split Mushroom stood on the roof of the tower-like command center, gazing down at the hustle and bustle below him. Sentries were skittering around like ants, performing drills and exercises at the commands of their skilled new sergeants. The Maverick's eyes twinkled, which was his version of a smile, as he reflected how well these taskmasters had converted his platoon of inexperienced greenhorn recruits into a decent fighting force. The Breaker had been right on this call, Split had to concede.

            The man in question towered over the Maverick Boss, standing to the right with his thick arms crossed over his barrel chest. He, too, observed the exercises with a critical eye. Every order that the sergeants gave fell under the Breaker's scrutiny. He wanted to make sure he was getting what he'd paid for, after all. The call for the drill sergeants had been made shortly after Manolin's conversion. The Breaker had confirmed the coming of air strikes and a ground attack, which almost completely crushed his morale. Ground attacks he could handle. An air strike from the Brazilian army, on the other hand, was a horrible new factor, and one that even he couldn't work around. To satisfy Mushroom, the Breaker had obtained a Surface-to-Air Missile system. The single SAM battery wouldn't do much more than annoy the combat fighter jets, the Breaker was sure, but he had to do _something_, didn't he? And just in case the air strikes failed, the Breaker had activated an old contact inside a renegade group of Reploid soldiers. The group called themselves "Red Candle", and they were a vicious lot. Many of them had been involved in perimeter defense and battle instruction, and conveniently many of them knew and respected the Breaker. Therefore, with the aid of a few cash transactions, the Breaker had recruited six drill sergeants to work with Mushroom's ragtag bunch, as well as assist in maintaining a decent perimeter. This did not completely erase his worries, however. With the threat of air strikes came the threat of certain defeat, and as such the Breaker had taken care to lay out no less than five escape routes for his use if things got hairy.

            "Finally, things are shaping up around here!" Split Mushroom said enthusiastically.

            "Indeed," the Breaker nodded. "I'm pleased with our defense layout. Given the fact that we know they're coming, and we may have incapacitated their leader, I think we stand more than a chance against our advancing friends."

            "Meh," Mushroom said with his casual—and annoying—indifference. "Don't get all that presumptuous. How much can that scientist do, anyway? Knock out the flight program? Big deal. Yammark can still give orders from a chopper, you know."

            "Yes, but a chopper can be shot down much easier than an insect flitting around in the air can."

            "Yammark didn't worry me in the first place," Mushroom maintained, just to be difficult. "He's just a big bug. Those guys with guns on the ground, they're who I'm worried about. Think your friends will have our boys ready for action in time?"

            "I think they're as good as their going to get." The Breaker turned to look the diminutive Maverick in the eye. "We don't have much time left. One prior report placed the attack date to be this very night."

            "Let them come!" the Maverick retorted. "As far as I'm concerned, we should just get this over with as quickly as possible and then get back to business."

            The Breaker managed to refrain from throwing this arrogant prick off the top of the tower. "When do 'they' arrive?"

            "A few days."

            And then I can leave, he did not say. "Good. We just need to hold out until then." He turned and started for the door leading back into the command tower. "Be on your guard," he said over his shoulder.

            To the Breaker's surprise, Mushroom accepted the advice and nodded. "I know how to handle humans. This Maverick's still got some tricks up his sleeve," he added mysteriously.

            The Breaker nodded after a second and resumed his descent to the lower levels, where he'd end training for the night and get everyone in their positions. He had a bad feeling. It would happen tonight, he knew. He just hoped that these Mavericks would be ready when the time came.

***

            "So what?" Zero countered immediately, once he sensed that Sigma had finished his story. "What good is a reserve base when you don't have a chance in the world of escaping this one?"

            "Excuse me, Zero?" Sigma asked, too innocently for Zero's liking. "What makes you think that?"

            "Don't be an even bigger idiot, Sigma. You've got a whole army of Hunters sitting on your borders. Do you really think they'll just let you walk away?"

            At this the Maverick began to laugh. "They won't have much of a choice! They won't be there much longer."

            Zero's blood ran cold. "Don't tell me you plan to…"

            "Oh, no!" Sigma laughed again. "Now who's the idiot? Use some common sense. A Buzzbomb right in the center of your clustered friends would be the perfect way to take them all out. Unfortunately, our method of delivery makes such a strike impossible without neutralizing the said delivery method. Plus Seraph Castle is right in the background, and to be honest, I don't much believe in a 'small' nuclear explosion. If a nuke goes off, everything in the area has problems. I'm not about to vaporize my own base."

            "Then what?" Zero asked, losing his patience. "There's nothing that could take the Hunters away from their current position."

            "Oh, there is something," Sigma promised. He produced a handheld radio and punched in a frequency. "Situation report?" he asked after he got a response.

            "Everything's a-ok," replied a voice Zero had never heard before. It was a compelling voice, he thought, one that carried power with it. It was the voice of a natural leader. "The enemy is still just sitting there, and it doesn't look like anyone's encroached on our exit point."

            "Systems check?"

            "Already done, sir. Revolver reports that there are no problems with _Gallagher_, none at all."

            "Excellent, Gredam," Sigma said with a smile. "You are go for launch."

            "Acknowledged, sir," replied Gredam of Terrornova. "All units, execute mission," he was saying when the radio went off.

            Sigma turned back to Zero after activating the viewscreen in the back of the room. Zero had a clear view, but Sigma shifted his weight anyway so as not to obstruct it. The image was of a mere patch of land covered by snow. It was a large area, Zero surmised, but he didn't know how large, and it didn't seem to be that important anyway. Yet.

            A line appeared in the snow, and Zero couldn't figure out why until it grew larger, forming eventually a big gap in the earth. Then Zero finally figured out that the ground was splitting apart…because it wasn't really ground. It was a brilliantly camouflaged set of gates, which were now parting to reveal a secret area, which contained…

            Zero's breath caught in his throat. Memories of an earlier war flooded his mind, terrible memories of an airship called _Death Rogumer _raining fiery plasma down on the roof of Hunter HQ. That airship had fallen with its master, Storm Eagle, but now it seemed that another _Rogumer _was emerging from this crack in the earth…and under its wings were large, complex…_missile launchers!_

            "Allow me to introduce you, Zero," Sigma said with cruel delight at seeing the shock on Zero's face, "to the Buzzbomb delivery boy…the airship _Gallagher._"

***

            Gredam held his breath as _Gallagher _lifted off into the sky. There had been a few brief shudders as the engines fired up, but other than that, everything was smooth. Revolver turned from his command chair and flashed Gredam a thumbs-up. _Gallagher _was working like a charm. There were no technical difficulties…yet, anyway. Off to Gredam's right, Barrier Greenback was bouncing around like a kid at Christmas, overjoyed that his project was finally in the air. The third mechanic, Chuck, was at his position going over readings and finalizing the course projection, but he too seemed enthusiastic. Storm Eagle and Gravity Beetle were also in the command cockpit, observing the internal progress with approval…but they were far more interested in what was happening outside.

            Gredam decided to join in. He moved for the nearest viewing portal, which was basically a reinforced window…very heavily reinforced, mind you. He was looking out of the ship's left side, and saw only snow. The sun had not yet begun to peek out over the horizon, but that would only be a matter of an hour or so now. He could see no threatening targets, but the ship was turning, and Gredam had a feeling that he'd see something soon.

            Soon…very soon, he thought. They knew that _Gallagher_'s basic systems functioned. Now they would see how the combat systems behaved.

            _Gallagher _rose over a patch of land known to the Mavericks simply as "Revolver's Garage". But the Hunters knew the same area, more specifically a buried laboratory adjacent to it, as UNDINE. And so, three figures who had been assigned to investigate UNDINE were just settling into position when the earth split at their feet and they were forced to find cover.

            Blizzard Wolfang was no stranger to snowy regions. The lupine Reploid could not explain to himself why the ground had decided to come apart, but he knew it wouldn't be a good idea to ponder the phenomenon on the spot. He sprang away from the crack, running on his hands and feet like the animal he was patterned after, racing over the snow hills like they were pavement, and finally after a very long sprint hunkered down in the snow. By now the blizzard was thick enough that snow soon covered what of Wolfang's head still protruded, and the Reploid had to squirm a bit in order to regain visibility. His keen optics locked onto the scene unfolding before him and registered both awe and fear: this was definitely a worst-case scenario.

            Blaze Heatnix was thinking the same thing. In his mind, the whole place was a worst-case scenario. He HATED being out in the cold. His burning wings provided him heat, but not enough for comfort, and they also made him stick out like a sore thumb. And so, he'd deactivated the fire on his wings before the mission began, and had made his way coldly to the target destination…only to be surprised by a Random Fissure. He hated it when that happened. Heatnix's optics widened and he immediately took to the air. His flameless wings beat just as strongly as ever, and they carried him far and fast away from the scene.

            Ground Scarabich wasn't having it much easier. Typically, the infiltrations master covered harsh terrain by generating a ball of junk and riding it around. He'd given up on this due to the significant attention it drew, and so plodded around slowly and cumbersomely, and quite often allowed Blaze Heatnix to carry him to a certain point. The blasted phoenix had forgotten him this time, it seemed, and Scarabich didn't have the time to generate his other mode of transportation. Instead he just ran, which was not something he did well. He had covered half of Blizzard Wolfang's distance when _Gallagher _emerged in its entirety.

            Scarabich turned to see what was making that noise…and learned quickly that it was the duel engines of a monstrous airship. He hadn't lived long enough to know _Death Rogumer_, but he knew just the same that this was one bad mother, and was throwing himself to the ground before he realized what he was doing. The scarab beetle willed himself to shrink, or for an avalanche to cover his shiny golden body completely. If he were spotted now, he knew….

            "It'll all be over," Scarabich whispered. "Go on…go on….don't see me…God, don't see me…"

            But no one saw him. The blizzard denied Gredam's team any chance to visually identify the Reploid lying half buried in the snow, and _Gallagher _flew on, passing their position and gaining altitude as it leveled out at a cruising altitude. It was ready for flight now, and the wind picked up immensely, aided by the exhaust from the airship's engines.

            Once the _Rogumer_'s sister ship had turned its back on him, Scarabich rose from the whiteness, his body flecked with snowy patches and shivering out of both stress and the cold air. His radio crackled to life, and the beetle absently thumbed the button to take the call.

            "Ground! You all right?" came Blizzard Wolfang's gruff voice.

            "Yeah…yeah, all's quiet here, Blizz," Scarabich managed to reply. "Jesus, man, did you see…"

            "Yeah, I did," Wolfang replied neutrally. "But it ain't our problem."

            "Maybe not yet," a third voice chimed in.

            "See anything special, Blaze?" Wolfang asked.

            "You could say that," replied Blaze Heatnix, who had just summoned enough courage to take an aerial examination of the launch site. "The chasm is still there…want me to check it out?"

            "I'm moving in to cover you," Wolfang said decisively. "Join us, Ground. We'll want to stick together now."

            "Sure thing," Scarabich said dryly, gazing back at the area he'd just covered on foot. _Screw it,_ he decided, and raised his gloved hands. Nearby substances gathered together as though magnetized, and soon Scarabich had himself a good-sized snowball. He jumped, propelling his small body on top of the snowball and began to walk, rolling the snowball underneath him and covering the distance twice as easily. "So, is there any chance that this chasm might lead to…"

            "Sure looks that way," Wolfang replied after saving some breath, running as fast as he could back to the chasm. Then he grinned. "Think those bastards just left the front door open for us?"

            "Stand by, Blizz," Heatnix called in. "I'm in position…we're about to find out."

            "We have a contact," a radar technician announced. "A large body, a mile or so east of our position."

            "That would be our visitors," said Chuck, coming around to confirm the information. "My, what a big clustered mass you are."

            "The better to bomb them with," Revolver quipped, punching in a command. "Greenback! You managing?"

            "Of course Greenback is managing!" the frog answered, somewhat insulted. He was perched awkwardly on top of a chair, crouching on his feet, of course. His long green fingers punched in code after code, with the aid of two weapons technicians nearby. "Weapons are Greenback's specialty! And all are functioning right and handy dandy, just as Greenback knew they would!"

            "Right, so all the guns are active?" Revolver pressed, beginning to steer the ship eastward.

            "Duel plasma cannons, machine guns, cluster missiles, homing torpedoes, and Buzzbombs, all fully operational. Should Greenback activate them all, hmm?"

            "No," Revolver said after a minute. "Not the plasma cannons. We want to save on generator power for now. Turn off the Buzzbombs too; they're no good to us here. Bring the machine guns online and prepare a good salvo of cluster missiles. Get the electromagnetic scrambler active, too. Sound about right?" He looked at Gredam for approval.

            The camouflaged Reploid nodded his head. "We'll give these assholes a welcoming they'll never forget."

            "Indeed!" Revolver agreed with a short bark of a laugh, finishing the course input.

            "Greenback cannot wait!" the frog said after bringing the weapons online. "Greenback bets the useless humans spoil their undies, he does!"

            Gredam grinned at this, though inside he was less than giddy. Storm Eagle and Gravity Beetle were there, quiet and solemn, and the bulk of their soldiers were in the cargo bay, waiting for the trip to be over. They would be flying over the entire massed Hunter army. Sure they would be shooting, but the Hunters would definitely shoot back, and if _Gallagher _went down now…

            Well, Gredam didn't want to think about that.

            "Zegmann is coming up the center path as we speak," Zion said to X, holding the map firm against his knee to prevent the wind from taking it. X was huddling with him, trying to read but not having much success. It didn't much matter, though, as he'd already memorized the map. "His final troops are leaving the Hunter Headquarters now. I vote we begin the attack when Zegmann himself gets here. The reinforcements will come when we need them."

            "I agree," X nodded, knowing to trust Zion with battle strategy. His job was infiltrating Seraph Castle, not managing troops…not anymore. He was very grateful that Signas and Zion were around to do most of the planning. X was clever and inventive, but usually only when actually in combat. "Everyone's ready. Should we start the main body now?"

            "Yeah, I don't like being clustered either." Zion shivered, knowing deep down that the Mavericks would never drop a nuke so close to their home…but when had rational thought ever stopped the Mavericks? "I'll form up with my men. Let's give Archer and Mason the go ahead."

            "17 and 0 will come around the east side," X confirmed the plan out loud. "All right, Zion. It's time at last."

            "It is, isn't it?" Zion smiled without humor. "I never much liked this part, even though I suppose I should."

            "Not so," X countered. "There isn't much that's glorious about war."

            "Aside from the penchant your family gets when you die," Zion said dryly. "And even that's bittersweet."

            Away from the two commanders, Vulcan and Rykov were huddled with the rest of Unit 5…shivering like naked Eskimos up in the arctic.

            "The HELL is taking so long?!" Rykov exploded for perhaps the hundredth time.

            "Setup," Hawkins replied, also for perhaps the hundredth time.

            "I know it's damned rookie talk," Vulcan chimed in, "but DAMN! Don't they worry about troop morale?"

            "I like to think of it as 'duty'," Hawkins answered with a smug smile, though he too was beginning to shiver.

            "Well," Rykov resumed complaining, "I dunno how much 'duty' a troop of Reploid Popsicles can do. 'Less of course you want to beat the Mavericks over the head with our stiff icy bodies."

            "I would LOVE to!" Hawkins said with a huge grin. "But unfortunately I have to stick to my firearms. Not that that's a problem. Just be glad you're not a human," he said with a gesture to one of the human members of Unit 5. The young man was huddled near a heat generator, a cumbersome device that was necessary for this kind of mission. The low temperature was annoying and in rare cases dangerous for Reploids, but it could be downright deadly for a human, especially in this blizzard. Humans were clustered around the heating stations and clothed in thick clothing. Hawkins had earlier quipped that they looked like an army of Iceman clones. The man had spent the last few freezing minutes cursing repeatedly, and after exhausting all the curses he knew, he began reverting to foreign languages. It seemed he was multilingual, because he'd already finished Spanish and French, and was now starting on Portuguese.

            "Yeah," Vulcan conceded. "Guess it could be worse."

            "Shit," Rykov mumbled, his words lost in the wind. Suddenly his head snapped up and he craned his neck up at the sky, searching futilely for something in the bleak darkness. "Anyone else hear that?"

            "Hear what?" Hawkins and Vulcan asked at the same time, and then Hawkins heard it, too. It was somewhat of a hum, barely audible over the shrill wind. Once they locked onto it, it was easy to stay with it, and they realized that it seemed to reverberate. Almost like…an engine?

            "What is it?" asked a still confused Vulcan.

            "Probably just the wind," Hawkins decided, waving it aside.

            "Yeah…" Rykov agreed, though he clearly did not agree, and he still looked through the night to try and pinpoint the source of the sound.

            "What is it?" Vulcan asked again.

            "Man, don't worry about it," Hawkins said. "We've got radar of our own. If something's coming, we'll know."

            "I know," Rykov finally stopped, shrugging. "Just don't sound right, is all."

            "WHAT IS IT?" Vulcan finally exploded. "THROW ME A FRICKIN' BONE, HERE!"

            "NOTHING!" Rykov shouted back over the wind. "I'll tell you when you're older!"

            Vulcan blinked, having missed the last part due to wind interference. Still, he figured it was a safe bet that it was meant to be degrading. "Screw you!"

            "_Yob tvoyu mat!_" the cursing human hunter shouted as loud as he could, having finished Portuguese and started in on Russian.

            "HEY!" Rykov roared, understanding that one. "Watch it!"

            Away from the cursing bunch of rookies, an even grimmer scene was taking place. The worst part was over, and Lifesaver was putting away his tools, adding to them two armor piercing bullets. Damia was coming to, and leaned back against Delates, who had knelt at her side to replace Acrystos, who was going over the current battle situation with the rest of the unit. Damia was still in a good deal of pain, but she'd easily live long enough for them to teleport her the hell out of there and back to the HQ medical ward.

            "I thought I told you to be careful," Delates said quietly, almost right next to her ear/sound receptor. It was amazing that quiet voices could be heard over the wind, but these two had no trouble.

            "I was letting loose with a giant machine gun," she said back, weakly but with a fond grin for the memory. "My flanks were…the least of my concerns."

            "So I see," he murmured, glancing to the hastily patched wounds in her side. "Well, so long as you neutralized all the bastards…"

            "I don't know if we did," she whispered, starting to drift off again. Then a new thought sprung into her head. "Furking raccoons."

            "Raccoons?" Delates blinked, but Damia had already slipped back into unconsciousness. The jade Hunter shrugged and smiled thinly, extremely relieved that his friend was okay. After losing Sol, the loss of another very good friend might well be the knockout punch the Mavericks had been unable to deliver directly to him for all these years. Everyone fell sometime, for some reason, he admitted to himself. Might this be his own curtain call?

            "Not tonight," he said out loud, taking Damia's right hand in his and accessing the controls of her teleporter, so he could send her back to the HQ. Lifesaver had told him to let her rest for at least fifteen minutes before trying anything, so her nanobots could at least get started lest the teleportation delayed them further. The time had passed and Delates finished the destination input. Lifesaver had already called home and Tiberius would have someone waiting at the "drop site" to take Damia to the medical ward. So far, despite some severe mining problems and even a few pieces of destroyed heavy artillery, Damia and a human tank driver were the only ones who had yet been seriously wounded in this campaign. That at least was a blessing, though Delates couldn't rightly expect it to last much longer. He punched in the final button and let her rest on the snow, breaking all physical contact so that he didn't accidentally teleport himself back with her. She disappeared in a blue streak, heading up towards the sky and from there back towards what could be considered safety.

            No sooner had this happened than Delates heard the hum. It was louder than the wind, though not by much, and maybe not even that. It was the reverberation that caught Delates' attention, like the ground was trembling with some sonic waves. He looked up in the sky, towards the west, where the sound seemed to be coming from.

            The next part would be forever embedded in Delates' memory, since it was the beginning of the most stressful, chilling moment of his life, and the final prelude to a clash that would be much greater than any Hunter had predicted earlier.

            From the distance there came a bolt of lightning, but at the same time it was not lightning. It was thicker, and composed of a number of smaller rays of crackling light energy. Several other Hunters saw it, for their arms were now raised to the sky and voices were frantic. Then, after the bolt had reached a certain point, it vanished to be immediately replaced by a huge flare of white light and a sudden shuddering sound rocked the Hunter forces.

            Delates picked himself up from the snowy earth and looked around frantically. He soon found that everyone else was doing the same thing…and even more curiously, no one seemed to be hurt. The humans were looking around with frowns, not even vaguely harmed, but the Reploids did seem to be shuddering a bit. Delates began to notice it himself. His CPU was fighting something…

            …And then he realized that he'd sent Damia away not one second too soon.

            This kind of attack was something Reploid CPUs had been designed to deal with: electromagnetic interference. Somewhere, someone had fired an EMG pulse that had taken the entire group by storm. Reploids themselves would still be functional, but other things like teleporters, tank guidance computers, etcetera would all be rendered temporarily useless. And that meant…

            "Shit," Delates breathed, scrambling to his feet and rushing to find the others in his unit.

            "Guidance is down!" the pilot of a ride armor was saying as Delates passed.

            "Backup programs!" shouted the Hunters who had figured out what was going on. "Activate your backup programs NOW!"

            EMG could interfere, but there were programs that could interfere right back, and most of the mobile artillery pieces had those programs. Pilots rushed to their vehicles and began firing them up, accessing the backup programs and trying to run them through.

            But all that took time, and time was not a luxury that the Hunters had anymore. For even as Delates caught sight of Tyclammel and Cort of his unit, a new sound interfered even with the approaching hum…

            …A whistle.

            A _whistle_! Something was whistling though the air! Each and every Hunter thought the same thing at the same time, and so each and every Hunter turned towards the sound of the whistling, paralyzed with fear and numb with shock at what had to be the approaching doom they had dreaded since the beginning of this campaign. How had Taggart failed? How had they not managed to shoot down the…?

            But it was no Buzzbomb that came out of the sky. Rather, it was like an oncoming flock of ravens, black and numerous in number, swarming in from the sky leaving small tails of fire behind them. Delates watched the endless swarm of projectiles turn towards the frozen, slack jawed mass of Hunter soldiers…

            …And then they descended.

            The cluster missiles locked onto individual targets much later than conventional homing torpedoes, but they did it in the end, and they sped to their motionless targets like bats out of hell. Hunters began to come to their senses, but they did so far too slowly, for the attack was already upon them. Shouts of anger, fear, and general confusion rang out as the first missiles found their targets. Each blast was enough to make a little crater, and so they did. The onrushing fireballs slammed into the ground, shredding soldiers with shrapnel. Ride armors and tanks, sitting ducks due to the EMG pulse, suffered head on collisions, and even if the initial explosion didn't do the job, the resulting explosion from the machines' own critical generators ripped them apart just as nicely. More than one missile hit near a heating unit, where many humans clustered, and caused heavy casualties this way. Finally, after being ignored all this time, a missile locked onto something near Delates.

            The acting Commander of Unit 0 snapped out of his trance and went off like a shot. He had no idea where he was running; he just knew he had to run. He ran past the explosions shaking the earth around him. Another missile hit nearby and the small shockwave knocked him off his feet. He picked himself up off the ground like a frantic cat who was trying to avoid a particularly hungry cat, and turned in time to see the missile pursuing him ram into the ground fifteen feet away from him. The shockwave sent him back to the ground, and he found himself pelted with shrapnel, but no major damage was dealt. _Thank goodness,_ he thought, but didn't get up for a while.

            When he did rise it was a scene of chaos that greeted him. Fires burned bright and gunfire owned the night. The attackers had caused the confusion they'd wanted to: Hunters were shooting blindly into the night at the unseen foe, in some cases even hitting and killing their fellows in the process. Delates watched in horror, unable to do anything to stop them, unable to even _conceive _of something to do, but as it turned out, he didn't have to.

            A streak of bright plasma split the night sky, traveling off into the west. Another followed it, and another, and another. The gathered Hunters gradually began to see the shots and knew them well: it was the huge blue fireball used by their greatest commander, Mega Man X. The gunfire stopped and redirected itself into the western sky, with everyone fixated on a target that Delates figured probably wasn't even there…but X had figured out a way to gain a handle on the confusion, and thus stopped the Hunters from wounding each other anymore.

            But as it turned out, X had indeed found his target. Even through the blizzard and the night they could see it: an airship resembling _Death Rogumer_. God knew where it had come from, but this most certainly was the floating enemy that had twice attacked them…and good Lord…what was that under the wings? Two large launchers…for missiles, which meant they had to be…_real _missiles…

            "Oh my God," X said in a near silent whisper that the wind ate up. "Oh my…bloody freaking HELL!" He activated his communicator, and was frustrated with the sound of static. "Shit…Zion, come in! SHIT!" he exploded when he realized that this was a futile gesture. For the first time in the last few years, Mega Man X found himself in a state of real fear. It would have been easier if the fear was for his own life…but even that comfort was not given to him. This fear was for the people who would soon face the wrath of those missile launchers…those innocent people of Megacity 5, those people whom X was sworn to protect. They would suffer this airship's fury…

            …Because that thing had NOT been built just to annoy a few Hunters. It was the delivery method for the SCBM Buzzbombs, and it had made its entrance in style.

            X, Delates, Tyclammel, Cort, Vulcan, Rykov, Hawkins, and many other Hunters had the same idea, and began to open fire on the floating giant that was approaching their position. However their attacks did little more than dent the airship's hull, as its armor was built to give way only to things far more powerful than bullets and buster shots. Other Hunters screamed for their comrades to activate the mobile artillery pieces, but those who had seen their friends blown to bits as they sat in lifeless tanks and ride armors were not very eager to board the paralyzed things and begin the reactivation process. However, _Gallagher _soon gave them some incentive.

            Previously unseen machine guns mounted on the ship's sides near the thick wings, which were mainly used to support the generator engines and missile launchers rather for real flight control, came to life, spitting bullets down at the Hunters at extremely high speeds…the tracers following the bullets made it look like the Mavericks were firing continuous lasers down at their archrivals. The bullets made mincemeat of Hunters in the open, and so they either rushed frantically for cover or took the dare of getting into a ride armor and booting up the EMG countermeasures. Some of them made it, but not in time to really make a difference.

            "Christ!" Rykov gasped, firing futilely up at the airship while watching his comrades run about like headless chickens. "They're firing adaman bullets!"

            "They must have their whole supply up there!" Hawkins agreed, with a look on his face that definitely did not inspire much hope in the rookies assigned to him.

            _Gallagher _first sprayed the larger clusters of ride armors and other mobile artillery pieces. When it could not find these, whoever operated the guns targeted groups of Hunters and let loose, and while they couldn't kill many of the fleeing enemy this way, it was still satisfying. On the ground, some Hunters who were fortunate enough to have bazookas at their disposal had begun to open fire on the airship, which was now over their heads and passing rapidly as it gained speed. The shells did more damage than anything else thus far, and they became the first real damage _Gallagher _took. Still, it passed relatively unhindered over the Hunters, and the guns turned around to fire a parting salvo before the floating messenger of death escaped over the Catskills, heading towards a sleeping city…heading towards the virtually defenseless Megacity 5.

            X did not allow himself to remain paralyzed with the sickening dread that had just overtaken him. He found Zion quickly, and thankfully unhurt. He was shouting into a radio, trying to contact Signas, trying to contact Taggart, but the damned EMG pulse was still in the air. They couldn't even teleport.

            "SHIT!" Zion's cool exterior cracked completely and utterly. "We've gotta get out of this area, X! Christ, we can't even WARN them!"

            "I know, I know!" X wasn't paralyzed with dread, but that only meant he was frantic. "What about Taggart? You think he knows?"

            "I dunno how all the Ravens could have missed that light show," Zion said, with a dark gesture towards their devastated ranks. "But I don't see them closing in, and there is _no way to reach them with this goddamned pulse!_"

            "Calm down, Zion," X ordered, though he himself wasn't doing much better. "We need to calm down and regroup."

            "Regroup?" Zion asked, wildly. "There's no time for that! That airship was gaining speed! Who knows how quickly it'll be in a position to fire on our HQ? Assuming that's their target. Maybe the bastards will fire on an orphanage, or a housing project, or…shit, I don't know!"

            He had to get it out of his system, X knew. Zion had never stayed frantic long, not once in his life. He would come together, and then they would take action. In the meantime, X knew, he had to find someone who could get away from this pulse and radio the base. But where could they go where they'd be sure to be free of danger and free of EMG pulse?

            Nowhere, X realized. But this was war, after all, and war carried risks. "I'm going to find Acrystos," he said to Zion. "I'll send Unit 8 away with some radios. They can make our calls. They'll be the best at this, even without their leader."

            "Right…right," Zion agreed, thankful for some plan to latch onto. "Then…then we can figure this out. Christ, X, this is even worse than the worst-case scenario…"

            "I know, man," X said, looking towards the bleak horizon where _Gallagher _had vanished. "I know."

***

            Once more Zero's breath caught in his throat as the grisly scene on the viewscreen came to an end. He leaned hard back against the wall, unable to keep his face blank, and displaying all the shock he was feeling. Sigma turned off the viewscreen, laughing all the way, like some goddamned jolly elf.

            "You see, Zero? All that preparation has come to nothing. After that, your devastated ranks will quickly regroup and charge out after _Gallagher_, leaving Seraph Castle alone long enough for us to make our escape, if need be."

            "Now what?" Zero managed to say, his throat dry and his head pounding. "You nuke our Headquarters, and expect us to just sit there? It's just a building, Sigma…just a building. We may lose our commanders, but we've still got X…and you'll _never _beat X." He sneered at the Maverick. "You've proven that to the world, time and time again."

            Sigma's eyes flared, but again he contained himself, settling again into relative comfort and grinning that annoyingly smug grin of his. "Right, of course, it's just a building. I suppose you're thinking that the surviving Hunters will shoot down _Gallagher _in a blind rage, and then come and storm Seraph Castle for real, and then start the rebuilding process?" The look on the Hunter's face told Sigma that indeed that was exactly what he'd been thinking. "Well, think again. _Gallagher _isn't made to handle an entire ground army…no single airship ever is. Your friends will return home to a deathtrap…a home where my agents roam the streets!"

            "What the hell are you talking about?!"

            "Malevex developed the plan," Sigma explained. "He thought it would be nifty to place you guys between a rock and a hard place. The ground forces will reenter Megacity 5 only to meet up with Boomer Kuwangner and company…a veritable army of giant mechaniloids and ride armors, all constructed and concealed behind your backs, not a mile away from your stronghold. We've taken to calling it the 'Frontline' unit, because we'll in effect be setting up the frontline that your friends will have to smash through if they want to get home before _Gallagher _does." He smirked at the last part. "Of course, the Frontline army won't just be twiddling its thumbs. No, they're completing the first part of their mission right about…now."

***

            It had been a fairly quiet night for the central district of Megacity 5. That's how it had always started, the citizens remembered. A quiet night, shattered by the sound of tanks rumbling and helicopters humming…and then a new Maverick uprising would begin.

            People wouldn't remember this as a legitimate uprising, but they would always remember the terror. Many woke up that night and marked the familiar sounds of war as the beginning the terror, and peered out their windows to see Boomer Kuwangner's parade of Bee Bladers, ride armor mechas, mini tanks, and other mechaniloids. Then they called their friends to issue warnings, and they began hustling their children into the basements and shelters.

            Tetra led the parade inside his pet behemoth, the Army tank. It cruised at surprising speed for such a big vehicle, and Tetra was pleased. The sooner he got to his destination, the better.

            It didn't take more than fifteen minutes. They left Hunter HQ in the dust and sped towards the main base of the Megacity Army, vacant except for a few spare tanks, ride armors, and guard mechaniloids. Plenty of soldiers patrolled the place, but they wouldn't be much good tonight, since because it was the Megacity Army, the majority of the soldiers were unfortunately human.

            The Bee Bladers reached the target first, being faster than the other attackers. A general alarm was sounded as soon as the lookouts saw the oncoming Maverick forces, but there was no way for the Army to mobilize before the Bee Bladers got within attacking range. The machine guns under the hornet-shaped hovercopters' "mouths" sprayed the guard towers with unforgiving firepower, and twin missiles fired from the Bladers' back cavities sped towards the garages, bunkers, and mobile artillery that was in danger of being activated by Army personnel. The explosions raised the alarm further, but the Army had given the bulk of their resources to the Hunters, and the attacks on their garages had ruined many of their reserves.

            As it turned out, the Bee Bladers would probably have been enough for this mission. There were eight of them, eight being a favorite number for the Mavericks. They hovered around the perimeter, shooting down troops just as rapidly as they appeared and rendering the guard towers useless. They conserved on their missile ammo as ordered, and resorted mainly to their machine guns. The soldiers tried their best, but only the ones with RPGs had any real effect, and that was minimal. Several Bee Bladers were damaged, but the only real success the Megacity Army had that night was shooting down one of the eight Bee Bladers, lowering the count to seven.

            But even that victory turned out to be pointless when Tetra and the others arrived. Tetra fired the tank cannon only one time during this brief battle. The shell sped through the air and hit the largest ammo bunker like the fist of Satan. The resulting explosion made Hell seem wet, what with all the ammo that went up. Boomer Kuwangner, piloting a Kangaroo ride armor, drilled his way through Reploid and human bodies, savoring the blood that splashed onto the armor and himself inside of it. This was too easy, he thought. It was just a blood bath. Not that he minded, of course.

            Seconds after his main bunker went up due to Tetra's attack, the base commander realized just how screwed he was. To stay and fight was to certainly die, and he gave the order to evacuate the base, sounding a full retreat. Many soldiers, recognizing themselves as the only obstacle standing in the enemy's way tonight, fought to the death. They killed a few Mavericks and disabled or destroyed an enemy mechaniloid or two, but in the end all who stayed behind were slaughtered, and even those who ran were hassled, for the Mavericks weren't planning to let anyone go. A Bee Blader gunned down the base commander himself as he neared the exit gates of his own base.

            Despite his pleasure, Kuwangner called the attack off once he was certain that they had thoroughly decimated the Megacity Army presence in Megacity 5. "Tetra," he rasped with more feeling than usual, speaking into the Kangaroo's radio. "Stay behind for a while and coordinate them. Send those you trained to the tanks. Send the rest to get any surviving Army ride armors. Destroy what you can't use, or anything in surplus. There's no sense in leaving them anything they can use when reinforcements get here. Meet up with us near Highway 52's Ford junction." Which was about twelve blocks from Maverick Hunter Headquarters…a safe distance, Kuwangner thought, given the small blast promised by the Buzzbombs.

            Tetra did just that, and Kuwangner sped off into the night, followed by his Bee Bladers and the majority of his ride armor troops, and other mechaniloids. Soon they would set up the final perimeter, Kuwangner thought gleefully. All they waited for now was an explosion that would rock the city…and then they would move into position.

            "Frontline to Command," Kuwangner rasped into the radio again. "Frontline to Command! Objective One is completed. Moving to standby for Objective Two."

            "Excellent work, Boomer," Sigma's voice responded. "You'll know the signal."

            "Yes," Kuwangner agreed. "I will."

***

            Sigma switched off his radio and smiled smugly, something he'd been doing a lot of tonight. Zero again stared in hatred mixed with disbelief. "Any other 'flaws' you wish me to explain to you, Hunter?"

            Zero's eyes narrowed. Sigma thought he'd assembled the perfect plan…or close to that, anyway. But there were flaws…flaws that even Sigma could not control. There had to be!

            And then it hit him. Perhaps the Megacity Army had just been neutralized in Megacity 5…but in Sub-City 3 they were very active! That's what Alden Base was, after all. A _reserve _base! A "just-in-case base" as Colonel Jones called it.

            But as though he were reading Zero's mind, Sigma's grin got even bigger, and it seemed like he'd break his face if he smiled any more. "Of course, the Megacity Army could be a real pain, if they call in some reinforcements from out of town. I know you're tight with that Jones fellow, but don't place too much hope in him. He has…other problems."

            Zero's heart fell, but he refused to let it fall all the way. Sigma _had _to be bluffing. There was no way he could have _two _hidden armies, and even so, Alden Base was fully stocked with soldiers and artillery. Even a surprise attack wouldn't take it down. Sure, that _Gallagher _thing and its Buzzbombs could do the trick, but they could be mobilized by then.

            "Don't believe me?" Sigma asked flatly. "I don't have a viewscreen for you, but I can tell you the story of Alden Base. They have all their defenses controlled on one network, and they have all their war machines charging at night on programs hooked up to that same network. Do you know how stupid that is, Zero? My agent did. My agent exploited it for me. And right about now, your Colonel Jones should be waking up to frantic calls from the Megacity Army base we just destroyed. I can't wait to see how this one plays out."

***

            If there was one place in the Megacity 5 area that was organized during this sudden crisis, it was Alden Base in Sub-City 3. Colonel Tony Jones had been summoned from his bed instantly when the base had received the distress signal from Megacity 5, and he'd reported to the war room/command center as quickly as was humanly possible…after throwing on some pants and a shirt, of course. He was now surrounded by five different people giving him five different reports, and the general conclusion he could draw was that Megacity 5 was under attack.

            The first thing Jones did was try to reestablish communications with the Army base. The first few times he got static. Then, on the fourth try, someone picked up on the other end.

            "This is Alden Base," Jones all but shouted. "Colonel Jones here, what is your situation, repeat, what is your situation?"

            The line was quiet for a while, as though the other voice didn't quite know what to say. Then, a baritone voice spoke up loud and clear. "Situation is perfect, chief. Matter of fact, I can't think of any way to make it better."

            Everyone in the war room froze. Jones took a few deep breaths, and his faulty leg began to ache, as it tended to do when he was under severe stress. "I am Colonel Tony Jones of Alden Base, Megacity Army. Who am I speaking to?"

            The reply began with a rich laugh. "Colonel! Good for you. Is it true what they say about Megacity colonels? About how they kiss so much ass that they can no longer taste the difference between a chicken salad sandwich and a mound of feces?"

            "To whom am I speaking?" Jones asked quietly, ignoring the insult and noting with some pride that everyone else in the room got instinctively angry at the attack on their commander.

            "Answer my question first, chief. I wouldn't know, y'see. I only made sergeant."

            "You were one of us?" Jones asked, hoping to break the ice. His biggest concern was that this Maverick—it had to be a Maverick—was keeping hostages. If so then they were probably doomed, but maybe there was still a chance…

            "One of you? Don't be ridiculous!" the voice laughed. "I drove a tank for General Virdelko, but I was never 'one of you'. I would never put myself with your kind. The Megacity Army is the biggest cluster of racists left in this world…which is why it was so much fun ripping your base here to shreds!"

            "Glad you had fun," Jones said coldly. "Now, is there—"

            "I'll do the talking, I think." The voice chuckled once, anticipating Jones's question. "I think I saw the base commander near the gates. He was running, would you know? Running like the sissy he is. He fell with about twelve bullets in his torso, courtesy of one Bee Blader hovercopter. Quite a sight, if I do say so myself."

            "Who are you, you sick bastard?!" Jones finally snapped.

            The line was quiet for a while. Then, "I am Tetra. Look the name up, if you survive the night. You'll find my name under the tank regiments. Then look up the name 'Regolin'. You'll find another tanker who was court marshaled because you bastards needed a patsy, and he was a convenient Reploid target." The line went quiet, and it seemed as though Tetra were spitting. Then he came back, and his voice was borderline chipper. "Well, I think that'll be all, if I do say so myself. Hey, listen, seeing as you guys won't be needing your tanks and stuff anymore, my boys and I are gonna borrow them. After all, we've got quite a night ahead of us! We'll say hello to the boys at Hunter Headquarters for you."

            "You son of a bitch!!!" Jones roared, drowning out the click of the radio shutting off. "Dammit, get this base active! Right the hell now! All weapons activated, all personnel armed and ready, and get everything all powered up in those garages! It's better to evacuate this base anyway. The Mavericks have big missiles this time, folks, and we're a prime target!"

            As usual, Jones' faithful crew carried out their orders immediately. That's why it didn't take much longer for things to start going completely and horribly wrong.

            When the main network was booted up, another program woke up with it. It swam through the main network, taking off at every branch and invading every unit. Machines in the garages woke up as planned, and the base defense cannons came online…but, in overt deviation to the planned startup procedure, they all began to fire their weapons.

            "What the hell was that?" Jones asked as the first explosions rocked the command center.

            "I'm not sure, sir," the lead technician offered lamely, typing away at his keyboard. "Oh, Jesus Christ…"

            "What? What is it?!"

            "I…I don't know why, sir, but every unit is in combat mode and on autopilot, and the autopilot's telling them to go berserk!"

            "What…what the hell?" Jones asked again in shock. This was when Garage B exploded.

            Garage B was full of munitions, mainly. There were one or two tanks in the Garage, and both were of course computer operated and linked up the main, infected network. A tank shell had caught fuel barrels and ignited all the nearby ammo, creating a chain explosion that literally ripped the Garage apart, and the explosive force aided in rocking the other Garages. Holes appeared through walls, cannons fired randomly, and the drone guns lining the road to the command center fired at anything that came close. Soldiers were dropping like flies or running for cover, held hostage by their own malfunctioning base.

            "Shut it off!" Jones finally screamed. "SHUT IT OFF!"

            "I CAN'T!" the technician shouted back. "I tried, sir, but something has completely corrupted this network!"

            "When? When did this happen?"

            "I…I don't know, sir. The earliest records place the virus birth at…well, earlier tonight."

            "Oh, Christ…" a security officer breathed. Jones turned to him with great interest. "Sir, there was a flicker in our security cameras…we investigated but ruled it to be just a maintenance problem."

            Jones's mouth went dry. "Who was in the building at that time?"

            "We found Major Bellman and that Cassius Reploid," the officer responded.

            "Bring them to me!" Jones ordered, and the officer left with his tail between his legs to do just that.

            They waited through ten more minutes of mindless carnage before the security officer returned, looking sick. "Bellman's dead, sir. Hell, his torso's all gone…"

            "And Cassius?" Jones asked, pushing the death of his friend Bellman aside, though it pained him greatly.

            The security officer winced. "Cassius is nowhere to be found."

            The world seemed to crash around Tony Jones. He slumped hard against the nearest computer module, his leg burning like a hot iron. He'd been had. He'd been defeated by an inside man, probably by Cassius…one of his most trusted soldiers…and a friend! Yes, he'd failed tonight…and now who knew how many would die because of it?

***

            "So you see, Zero," Sigma finished, "I wouldn't place too much hope with the Megacity Army. For all intents and purposes, they are neutralized."

            Zero said nothing. In truth he'd never placed much hope with the Megacity Army. The cowards ran and hid whenever a Maverick uprising began…oh, they'd send mechas for Hunter use, and that was a great help, but the actual _fighting _was always left to the Hunters. Still, they were human, and humans really could bring the house down when they were backed into corners, and the report of their particularly brutal defeat left Zero very disheartened. The Mavericks were serious this time. The plan had been well thought out. And using _Cassius_, of all people! Zero had trusted Cassius, too, and he'd been duped as well. That little _bastard_!

            But why in the world was Sigma leaving out the most important detail? He meant, of course, the Hunters themselves. Even with the bulk of their troops here in the Catskills, BROKEN HALO's designers had made sure to arrange for a few squads to stay behind and guard the base, and Hunter HQ was a building that was far more difficult to approach than the wide, multi building Army base. The HQ had installed defense cannons and antimissile batteries on their outer walls, much like at Seraph Castle, only the Hunter guns were controlled by folks inside the base walls. Already Hunter HQ was far more fortified than the Army base had been. What made Sigma think that Signas and Cain and the others would just sit back and let themselves be overrun?

            Again, though, Sigma seemed able to read Zero's mind. That infuriating smirk returned and he continued with the unveiling of his long-schemed plan. "There is of course one final detail. It is, in its way, the most important detail. I've had bad enough luck that I know beyond a doubt how possible it is for a small, desperate group to overcome my superior numbers, so I've planned against it this time."

            "So you think," Zero interrupted. "A ground attack on Hunter Headquarters probably won't even be necessary. Once we get word of your floating tub's approach, the remaining Hunters will bail, and we know that city better than your attackers do. They'll escape and you'll nuke a building into rubble. An empty building. And then we'll rendezvous, rally, and kick your ass to Timbuktu."

            "Again, you've missed the scheme by a hair." Sigma cracked his knuckles, preparing to unveil the icing on the cake. "What if, Zero, the Hunters are delayed in their evacuation? What if confusion reigns long enough for _Gallagher_, Frontline, or both to get in position? Because that's the key, Zero. Confusion. And helplessness," he added cruelly. "Quite a while ago, a Maverick went undercover and enlisted in your ranks. He is a hacker of some skill, and he's already proven himself to be quite useful. You'll know by now that my generals, the Terrornova crew, have a personal vendetta against certain humans, and in order to make sure they got every last bastard involved with that program, we came to this hacker. He tapped into your most top-secret files, gaining access to a list of the names of everyone affiliated with Terrornova. My comrades then checked off the names one by one as they killed the targets off…so fell Thornton and Komanov, and soon to fall will be Kitao and Virdelko. Though I don't know how that bit will play out."

            _Kitao?! Virdelko?!_ _JESUS!_ It wasn't the people behind the identities that surprised Zero. He'd known for a long time that Kitao was a racist asshole, and Virdelko had always been shady. It was the influence held by the identities that really got to Zero. Colonel Alan Kitao was a very effective officer, held in high regard by his peers. He himself had briefed the Hunters on the Buzzbomb threat, and Zero had sat right across from him…right across from one of the assholes who'd arranged Mea's death all those years ago. General Klementi Virdelko was a mighty political figure and held great sway over the armed forces of the Megacity System. For those two to be involved in this…Zero realized with a chill that had Terrornova lasted much longer, he and X would have probably been on the shit list, given how powerful they were. And Terrornova had been designed to kill powerful Reploids, hadn't it? Kitao and Virdelko…_assholes!_ Zero in that moment found himself actually rooting for the nuclear terrorists.

            "Sickening how people repay debts, isn't it?" Sigma asked neutrally. "Now you see why we hate them so much? I'll be the first to admit that I deserve a few bullets upside the head, but you Hunters…even after all you've done, you still get the short end of the stick. Doesn't it _ever _piss you off?"

            "Of course it does," Zero replied, just as evenly. "Still doesn't excuse genocide, though."

            Sigma took it in stride and got back to business. "Now that we'd seen how skillful this hacker was at covering his tracks, we decided to trust him with something even more important. I'm sure you Hunters have been kicking yourselves in the ass a lot over this place you call UNDINE. I would, if I were you. Well, we found out about it a long time ago. That's how we've been able to break your codes and read your messages. And when I say break your codes, I mean it! It was remarkably stupid to base all your security on one root code…especially when we have the ultimate code breaker on our side. Thank goodness for Cyber Peacock…otherwise known as Kujacker. He cracked your mainframe defense codes like child's play and formulated the absolute perfect virus…a mechanical plague that'll stop all your systems cold. Right now the program is in the hands of our friendly neighborhood hacker, and he's about to deliver the most subtle knockout punch in history!"

***

            There, it was done. No one looked at him. Why should they? He was doing his job, just like he was supposed to. The fools! Here he was, about to send them back into the Stone Age, and all they did was chatter about how their work was almost over, and they could either take up patrol duty or set out for Seraph Castle. The last of Commander Zegmann's troops were heading for the teleportation area now. Well, they wouldn't get far, the hacker thought with an inner smirk, punching the Enter button one last time. That much was for sure.

            It took ten seconds for the program to activate. The hacker passed the time by stretching and yawning, thus explaining his break in typing. No one paid him any heed. He was alone. No one was talking to him. Occasionally someone glanced in his direction but never at him. Good, he thought, stay in your own little worlds. That's how it's always been, after all. Stupid Hunters…the looks on their faces would be priceless! And even then it could only get better, the hacker knew. It would be the utmost in pleasure to rip these fools apart after he rejoined his comrades on the Frontline.

            The first thing that happened was that all the computers blinked off at once. Hunters stared in disbelief for a few seconds before swearing loudly at the lost work, and then all at once they began to notice that everyone else had the same problem. No sooner had this happened than the lights flickered out in the computer room as well as every other place in the HQ. Startled voices began to rise, but there was no panic. Everyone assumed that this was the direct result of that nasty blizzard. Probably a few transformers had been knocked out. It happened…always at the worst times, but it happened. The hacker stood and joined his "comrades" in looking around the room curiously, and nodding his approval whenever someone mentioned the wind, waiting for things to start getting really hectic.

            That didn't take long. The first person in Maverick Hunter Headquarters to get really and seriously pissed off was Tiberius, head of the medical department. He was personally working on Commander Damia, who had just been brought in from the field. He had just gotten set up to fully examine the wound when the lights went out and the big machine that kept Damia functioning and charging inexplicably went out. Swearing first at the sheer inconvenience, Tiberius put down his tools and sent an assistant off to activate the backup power, just before he remembered that these machines ran off their own separate generator. Why the hell were they deactivated, if this were happening because of the wind? Only the main generator should be affected…right?

            Tiberius himself went into his office and tried to contact Signas in the war room. He was heartily discouraged when he learned that all communications were shot. _What in the world…?_

            "Nance," he said to a young human nurse. "Take a run to the war room and see what the hell's going on. Make it snappy," he added. Nance did just that, and Tiberius was left to wonder how in the world things could go so horribly wrong now of all times.

            Krysta had just reached the teleportation point when she realized that the lights were off behind her. Xu turned to see what the holdup was and saw the same thing Krysta did, though they had to squint through the blizzard. The weather wasn't nearly as bad down here as it was high up in the Catskills, but the visibility was still reduced.

            "Well what in the hell…?" Krysta asked the wind.

            "Xu of Unit 15 to base, do you copy?" She waited fifteen seconds before trying them again. "Xu of Unit 15 to base, is anyone there?" She realized now that she wasn't even getting static. The radio was dead in the worst of ways. The more experienced Huntress traded a look with her younger comrade that spoke more than words ever could.

            "Head back?" Krysta asked, no longer worried about finding action in the Catskills.

            "You bet," Xu agreed, and they hustled back the way they came, joined by others who were thinking similar thoughts.

            Alec Tremont had just touched down in Raven 13 when things went haywire.

            He was in charge of the group that had left for refueling, and he was also the last bird down. Maintenance Hunters were already standing by, braving the cold to get the Ravens back in the air as soon as possible. Tremont had just disembarked his jet to huddle with his fellow pilots and see how they were holding up when the lights in the HQ went out.

            There was no effect on the airfield and the Ravens themselves. Each ran off their own power supply, and the airfield had a generator that's activation did not depend on power from Hunter HQ. Concerned, Tremont returned to Raven 13 and activated the radio inside the cockpit. He tried thrice, but got no responses. Worried now, he disembarked again and rejoined his pilots. Each had the same look on their face.

            "Inside," Tremont said after a minute of contemplation, gesturing to the airfield garage. "Now."

            The lights weren't the only things that went out in the war room. Radio uplinks died immediately. Alia blinked in surprise and tried to reestablish contact four times with four different units before turning to ask Signas for guidance. Signas had his hands full, however. The big Reploid was swamped with reports that seemed to indicate that all power was gone, from both normal and backup generators. This, he thought, was not good at all.

            "Signas!" Alia finally caught his attention. "I've lost all contact with the Seraph team." The other seven radio operators confirmed this.

            Signas didn't have any sagely advice. He just nodded slowly, somewhat dazed and trying to sort everything out. He would be denied that luxury. Hunters rushed in from all areas of the building complaining that everything had stopped working. A messenger from Douglas entered and said that all the computers managing the mobile artillery had shut down. A nurse entered and announced that the medical bay was next to useless.

            But the worst news came from three Hunters who entered simultaneously. They were in charge of manning the antimissile batteries and side cannons that defended the HQ building from direct assault, and no one wanted to hear what they had to say, because deep down, they already knew.

            "It's all down, sirs," one of them summarized. "Everything's down. We're goddamned sitting ducks!"

            Dr. Cain rose from his place and turned to look at Signas. The look they shared was ghastly indeed, and those who noted it immediately began to feel their knees quake. What did this mean? This night, of all nights, their power had failed them. They were defenseless tonight, during this blizzard, during the raid on the nuclear terrorists in Seraph Castle…could that possibly mean that…?

            Caligula's voice was even quieter than usual, and that meant danger, pure and simple. Cain and Signas both came out of their trances to look at the relatively short Reploid, who's face altered from neutrality to something that resembled illness.

            "I just talked to radar operator number six," he said in a rather hoarse voice. "It seems that when things went to shit, he was in the middle of receiving a distress signal."

            "From where?" Cain asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

            "Alden Base," Caligula finished in a near whisper. "They conveyed that the local Army base has been defeated. They themselves are under attack."

            "By who?!" Signas finally got out. "Who is doing this? All the Mavericks are at Seraph Castle!"

            "Apparently they're not," Caligula countered gently. "The connection broke before the operator could confirm anything, but…"

            "Yeah," Cain nodded slowly, agreeing with the unspoken gesture. "I think we're in trouble, boys. Big, big trouble."

***

            "You son of a bitch!" Zero growled, forcibly refraining from launching himself against the bars. He didn't want to repeat _that _episode. "You goddamned spider! You'll paralyze your prey, nuke it, and then what?! What good is your Frontline then?!"

            "They'll eliminate as many of your confused, shocked friends as possible on the ground," Sigma explained patiently. "And then they'll teleport home, and it's off to see the wizard, otherwise known as Brazil. Or who knows? Maybe we'll fortify ourselves here if we kill more of you than we expect. I don't know, Zero," he said, getting to his feet at last. "I'd say you're in a pretty pickle this time around."

            Zero growled again, but inside he had to admit it. Pure, unbridled rage boiled within him, but he had no one to unleash it on but himself. Sigma and his generals had thought this one through to the bitter end. They probably had several backup plans for this Frontline and their _Gallagher _ship if the Buzzbombs failed…hell, they could just turn the ship around and nuke the Hunters as they came back. They'd be far enough from Seraph Castle by then that Sigma wouldn't risk anything, except maybe the neutralization of a residential district. These goddamned murderers were getting away with it, Zero realized. In a matter of an hour, the world could be looking at a nuclear detonation in Megacity 5. Mavericks around the globe would rejoice and take heart at the destruction of the most prominent Hunter base in the world. Sigma's following would grow again. A new uprising would begin, and the Hunters would be left scrambled, shocked, and disillusioned, and thus unfit to contain the threat that would surge their way. It would happen everywhere this time, not just in Megacity 5, and the Hunters over the globe were not all as skilled as they were over here. Good god, Zero realized, they _were _in a pretty pickle.

            Sigma turned and strode to the side door this time, exiting proudly into the open halls of his fortress. His cape billowed behind him and that smug smile remained. Once more he'd smashed Zero's spirit with a particularly heavy hammer. He was getting good at that, he thought, turning his head to bid farewell. "Adieu, Zero. I'll be sure to give you regular updates. It's only fair to make sure you know how quickly your friends are dying."

            "Burn in Hell!" Zero shouted at the Maverick's back.

            "Been there," Sigma laughed. "Done that." And then he was gone, and Zero spun and slammed his fist into the adamantine wall hard enough to crack it. Pain receptors in his wrist screamed, but Zero wasn't listening. He stood ramrod straight and seethed, expelling his anger in spurts, but when it was gone he realized that he wanted it back. Without anger there was only the truth, and Zero had seen the evidence. All this was really happening. An airship carrying nuclear missiles was speeding towards Megacity 5, leaving the only army that could stop it in the dust. Maverick troops were keeping the city at bay, neutralizing the Megacity Army and paralyzing Hunter HQ from within to keep the important Hunters in place long enough for _Gallagher _to get into firing position. Afterwards the Mavericks would hide in Brazil and gather support while the Hunters licked their wounds…the master plan, and the final culmination of the Terrornova program. _Great job, Virdelko_, the Hunter thought bitterly.

            _BRAZIL!_ They KNEW about Brazil, didn't they?! Yes, they did! They'd hired Gate to investigate and bring the place down! He remembered that. He remembered little of that day in Sub-City 3, but now he knew that Gate had agreed. Sigma had even said as much earlier. Gate had to hurry, Zero thought. He had to take out the Mavericks down there fast, so that Sigma would lose his fallback place and perhaps alter his plans…the fatal flaw in any leader. Zero didn't know Gate all that well, but now he had to place everything in the scientist's hands.

            He hoped those hands were as capable as the world made them seem.


	35. Investigations

Chapter Thirty-Four: Investigations 

            Megacity 5 was in a lot of trouble that night, but two men who were blissfully oblivious to it all were Gate and Isoc. Gate's local base was far from Hunter HQ or the Megacity Army base, and no one bothered to send distress signals to him, since he was not a legitimate military force.

            Tonight, though, the lack of interruptions was a godsend for the scientists, at least for now. They had two operations going at the same time, and they needed all their concentration focused on the action. Both were fairly haggard already at this time of night, but both knew that rest was a luxury that was well beyond their grasp.

            At the moment things were looking good. The UNDINE team had last reported that everything was fine and good, and down in Brazil Yammark was getting in position with his units. The Brazilian air force was also getting things going, and the three jet fighters that had been tasked to the mission were just about ready to begin their night's work.

***

            Most pilots still dreaded night flying, even with the mainly computerized aircrafts they flew. Computers didn't need light to see, but the pilots much preferred to be able to see everything they were flying into.

            But dawn was breaking, and that was reassuring for Alejandro Cortez, the leader of the strike force that would bomb Split Mushroom into oblivion…or so they hoped.

            Cortez was a career pilot who had flown in many an airplane, but this one here was his favorite. Its technical name was the RA-90, a craft that Brazil had recently purchased in bulk from the European Commonwealth. It was the current rage as far as stealth and aerodynamics, capable of pulling off the most nimble maneuvers for a full-sized fighter jet. This was no puny Raven, Cortez liked to say, referring to the mini-jets they used up north in the System. The RA-90 specialized in dropping out of the sky, showering its targets with flaming death, and escaping back into the shadows. This had made way for its affectionate nickname: the Raider.

            Cortez sat in his Raider's cockpit now, rolling onto the base runway. As far as he knew this would be a cut and dry mission. He and his two wingmen would approach the target and then the Raiders would…well, raid. The only tricky detail was that there was a ground force moving in nearby, for some reason. Therefore Cortez and his comrades couldn't use any _really_ destructive elements, and so were limited to the effective yet less satisfying Sidewinders that they carried under their Raiders' wings. In the Megacity System, full sized Sidewinders would be called overkill. Down here, Cortez thought, Sidewinders were merely secondary weapons. It was amazing how their northern neighbor had survived this long with such a wimpy military, Cortez reflected as he fired up his engines.

            Well, it didn't concern him. What did concern him was a Maverick base many miles ahead in the jungle. Cortez, like most humans, didn't much care for Mavericks, and wanted nothing more than to bring the assholes to the gates of Hell for daring to nest in his country. And that he would do, the pilot thought with a smile. It had been years since their army had actually had to _do _anything, and it was gratifying to be leading the assault that would change things.

            The Raider screamed as it lifted off, but shortly after the noise died down considerably as its stealth engine programs kicked in, and it joined the diminishing blackness of the skies. Cortez had to smile at the rising sun. It would be a wake up call that the Mavericks would never forget.

            Julio Gomez swatted a mosquito as robotically as a mechaniloid. He'd put up with the things all his life, and his brain only comprehended that one action when a mosquito was detected on his person.

            Even more automatic were his responses to the noises coming from the forest around him. His eyes snapped sharply towards wherever the sound was coming from and his fingers tightened around his assault rifle. He knew it was just wildlife…probably. But he was far too uptight at the moment to be anything but paranoid. He was a fighter, sure, but he was also a human, and he was invading the lair of Mavericks. Sure, most of him burned with the desire to really hurt these enemies of his race, but another part of him was quite nervous about what would happen if they failed. Falling into Maverick hands was not Gomez's idea of fun. He planned to be extra careful on this mission, which, he thought, wasn't a bad idea anyway.

            Manny Rodriguez was surer of himself. The leader of Yammark's second platoon had no doubts about what was going to happen: the planes would come, the planes would leave, and he would go in to clean up the mess. Yammark was coordinating things from above, in a hovercraft, and if things got rough he'd move in and join the party himself. Rodriguez was privately worried about someone shooting down the hovercraft, but he figured Commander Yammark had plenty of backup plans in order. Everything would work fine. With Yammark, it always did.

            Commander Yammark himself was both anxious and confident. He was confident that his troops would do the job right, and he knew that the air force would come through, but his anxiety came from the constant fear that what if, in the middle of all the chaos that was about to ensue, something went wrong? To this point, his field agents hadn't had a problem with things going wrong, except for the last incident in this place, when the Breaker had spotted Yammark's spy drone. How would they handle themselves if something went very awry? Would they have the sense to sort things out and right themselves?

            Of course they would, Yammark told himself, staring down from the hovercraft he'd chosen to coordinate the mission from. And if they had trouble, Yammark would fly down to help. He was only using the hovercraft because its onboard computers made communication with the units easier. If worse came to worse, he had a swarm of fighter drones ready for his use. For now, though, all his units reported that they were in place, and so he had another call to make.

            "Commander Yammark to Control, over."

            "Control reads you, over."

            "All units in place. Awaiting jet fighters, over."

            "Roger," Isoc replied calmly. "We will contact you again, over."

            "Well?" Gate asked from the other side of the room.

            "All's well," Isoc reported, crossing over to another monitor. "The UNDINE crew reports nothing out of the ordinary."

            "Well then let's get them going," Gate decided. "If the Mavericks see the Hunters massing in front of their base, security will tighten. I see no reason to give them more time to prepare for our arrival."

            "Agreed." Isoc turned to send the order, but stopped cold. "Well now, what's this?"

            "What's what?" Gate asked, standing straight.

            "Control, this is Wolfang! Anyone there?"

            "We're here," Isoc responded on the communicator. "What's your status?"

            "You won't believe this, Isoc." Wolfang sounded out of breath. "The frickin' ground split open, and a frickin' airship just flew out of it."

            "What's that?" Isoc frowned, and Gate stepped up and took the communicator from him.

            "Wolfang, you said an airship?"

            "Yeah, boss," Wolfang responded. "A big one, too. Almost spotted us. We just heard some sounds we think are combat related."

            "You're saying the airship fired on the Hunters?"

            "Something like that, I'd wager."

            "I see…" Gate's gut feeling suddenly became very unpleasant. "Well what are you three up to?"

            "Blaze checked out the crack. It turns out it's really the door to a hidden underground garage…we think this'll take us right to our destination."

            "You're serious?" Gate blinked. "It's right there?"

            "I think this is what UNDINE really is, boss," Wolfang responded gravely. "Maybe before it was a code lab, but now the Mavericks have converted it into something else entirely."

            Gate pondered that one for at least thirty seconds. "The door…is it still open?"

            "The chasm in the earth, you mean? Yeah, it's still there, though I imagine they'll be trying to close it soon."

            "Get in there," Gate said sharply, somewhat to Isoc's surprise. "Get in there, all three of you, before it's too late. Execute the mission now, hear me? Right the hell now!"

            "Roger that," said a somewhat satisfied Blizzard Wolfang.

            "Are you sure about this?" Isoc asked once the link was broken. "This is an unknown variable."

            "I know that," Gate responded tiredly. "But what else can we do? They left the door open for us, so let's march on in. I'm getting the feeling, Isoc, that the sooner our boys get out of that place, the better off they'll be. Now, in the meantime, I'm gonna try to raise Hunter Headquarters. If it's an airship on the loose, that's something they need to know about."

            "You're probably right," Isoc acknowledged, and Gate headed off for yet another communications uplink. Isoc rested his head in his hands and let out a long breath. Things had been going so well up to now. Too well, he realized. He was a man who liked things to work like they were supposed to. If they didn't, then he became nervous. Now all of a sudden the UNDINE mission was something else entirely…and if there were no codes to recover or destroy, what were the Investigators doing there, anyway? Spying? That was a job for the Hunters, not the true believers Gate had managed to put together after years of searching.

            He was brought out of his thought process by a sudden curse from his boss. Isoc turned to see Gate sitting at the console with his face blank.

            "What is it?" Isoc asked at last.

            "They're not answering," Gate responded quietly.

            "What do you mean?" Isoc asked incredulously. "They have several backup generators for power. They should at least have something that can receive your signal!"

            "They're not answering," Gate repeated, and Isoc realized the gravity of the scenario. "Jesus…do you think?"

            "The nukes?" Isoc knew about these. "No, sir, we'd have heard or felt that, even far as we are from the center of town. It can't be that."

            "Then what is it?" Gate wondered aloud.

            "That's anyone's guess," Isoc replied, turning slowly and heading for the door. "But I'll be damned if I can't find out."

***

            Blizzard Wolfang turned to Ground Scarabich and gave him a curt nod. "It's time."

            Scarabich nodded back and they both looked to the itchy Blaze Heatnix. The phoenix Reploid grinned a big beaky grin and threw them a thumbs-up. The mission was on, at last!

            Heatnix had already explored the chasm that led down into the UNDINE site, and they'd determined that the jump down would not kill any of them. A proper military force would have executed a proper and thorough and above all cautious assault…but the Investigators were not a proper military force. They were a cadre of true believers in world peace, and sometimes for peace you had to make fire. Blaze Heatnix knew all about making fire, and in he went, diving down like a twisting, flaming tornado into the depths of whatever awaited them below, throwing caution to the wind. Wolfang followed suit, grinning toothily and springing nimbly into the hole, claws extended and ready to rip through anything that might by waiting for him. Scarabich produced a laser machine pistol from an armor slot and hopped into the chasm. On his way down he gathered local particles and smashed them together beneath him, forming a ball for him to land on.

            When Dr. Doppler had managed UNDINE, it had been a secret lab used for decoding and encoding. Doppler had been a master with coding, and try as they might no Reploid designer could create a machine with a CPU as advanced as Doppler's. Doppler had been one of those "accidental" geniuses, someone who got his brains from a glitch, or something equally unlikely and unplanned. As a result people couldn't just mass-produce Dr. Dopplers to solve all the worlds' problems; they didn't know what made Doppler Doppler.

            When he died, Doppler's labs for the most part remained alive without him. The technicians manning UNDINE fled the site soon after word of their mentor's demise reached them, and the Hunters moved in shortly after. What they found was startling evidence that suggested that Doppler may have cracked their entire coding structure, and as a result decided to destroy all of Doppler's notes as well as the UNDINE lab itself. Unfortunately the Hunter demolition crew was not sufficiently skilled, and the underground cavern that housed UNDINE did not collapse as planned, though the Hunters hadn't figured that out until it was too late. Even worse, their plans to recode all their major systems didn't take place as quickly as they should have, and were delayed further with the dawn of the Repliforce uprising. The problem was forgotten, buried under the other issues of the times, and no one ever thought to bring it up again. Then, Sigma came to the Catskills, and everything changed.

            The decision to build Seraph Castle close to Hunter Headquarters came from the big man himself, and it only made sense. For Sigma's _Gallagher _plan to work, their base had to be reasonably close to the Hunter HQ. The decision to place the base in the Catskills was subject to heavier debate, but it won out due to its defensive capabilities. It was Cyber Peacock, however, who all but forced Sigma to build the castle at this particular spot, even when there were other defensibly superior locations available. No one knew at first why Kujacker had wanted to come here so badly, but his reasoning soon became clear when the bird presented Sigma and The Team with Doppler's old coding lab, which the Hunters had code-named UNDINE. The lab, while not destroyed, was very well buried, and so it was anyone's guess how Peacock had known about the place. The bird's closer friends, such as Storm Eagle, could comment about how Peacock seemed different since his defeat in the fourth uprising…almost like he was sharing his secrets with someone else, who was returning the favor with juicy tidbits like UNDINE's location. Also, Peacock had entered the lab first and it was a while before he let anyone inside after him. Sigma was slightly suspicious, but Peacock had always been an odd one, and more often than not Sigma had found that it was more productive for his cause to just let the avian do his own thing.

            While Kujacker was wallowing in whatever dark secrets were still inside UNDINE, the Maverick engineer named Revolver was scrutinizing the cavern made by the Hunter demolition crew and deciding that it'd be a prime spot for a secret garage. He and his crew began converting the place into _Gallagher_'s womb, and installed the gateway above. By this time Cyber Peacock had absorbed most of UNDINE's knowledge and left the small lab section to rot while he began using his newfound knowledge to hack into Hunter networks. Thus, the lab itself was a small extension of Revolver's garage, which was now vacant except for a few technicians who were closing up shop and monitoring their baby's progress on viewscreens.

            This was the situation when Blaze Heatnix came screaming down from above, bearing with him the Onslaught From Hell.

            Chief among the remaining technicians was a Maverick named Billo. He was the first one to look up and spot the flaming devil, and it was the last thing he ever saw. Blaze Heatnix halted his ferocious dive bomb and slashed his arms out in front of him. With a cry of "Magma Blade!" arcs of fire flew from the avian towards Billo, carving him to ribbons. Heatnix didn't stop there. He dove down upon two technicians on the ground, who were by now shouting in alarm and reaching for their weapons. The phoenix grinned and sent another Magma Blade attack flying at them, while at the same time he sped towards the nearest one in a flaming bodily crash attack. The Mavericks managed to dodge the first attack, but the second one caught its target off guard and damaged the unarmored Reploid beyond repair. Heatnix made sure of this by stamping his clawed, flaming feet in the enemy's chest and pulling him up into the air. The phoenix's wings beat hard with a fiery red aura, and the Investigator grinned at the second Maverick, who was trying to line up a shot with his laser pistol. Heatnix charged the body below him with fire and flung his legs outward, throwing the first Maverick into the other. Another cry of "Magma Blade!" ended the fight, and with a content grin Heatnix turned to find his comrades.

            Blizzard Wolfang was more reserved. He landed on his feet and spotted no targets close enough for a melee attack. However he did see one Maverick rushing towards Blaze Heatnix, and Wolfang took immediate action. The wolf got down on all four legs and rushed towards his prey, growling menacingly enough to get the Maverick to turn and look and finally raise his gun to fire. Wolfang leapt clear to the right, dodging the blast latching onto the wall with his clawed hands and feet. Growling at the enemy he exhaled extremely cold breath mixed with short bursts of hydrogen, producing a large energized ice crystal. After the second of generation he shot the projectile straight at his opponent's chest. It struck true, exploding on contact and throwing the Maverick to the floor. Wolfang darted over and made sure his enemy was dead before moving to join Heatnix.

            Ground Scarabich found that most of the fighting was over when he rolled into the room, but he did encounter two enemies trying to escape. The first one went too far before realizing what Scarabich was doing and was crushed underneath the moving ball of stuff that Scarabich had generated earlier. The second one the beetle gunned down with his machine pistol, firing wildly from atop the ball like a madman; Scarabich never worried about ammo. Then, in hindsight, he began to shoot out the various cameras that were positioned around the room. _Damn_, he thought. Now the people monitoring security would know about them. Oh well.

            Wolfang, Scarabich, and Heatnix traded looks when the sounds of carnage stopped. Satisfied with their quick and painless takedown, they spread out to search for any hidden Mavericks. A minute later three shouts of "Clear!" echoed throughout the UNDINE cavern, and Wolfang looked to Scarabich, signaling the scarab to do his thing. The gold plated Investigator got right to work, exploring the garage in its entirety and looking for the target laboratory.

            He found it in the midst of rubble probably left from the initial Hunter bombing. The lab room was now quite small, consisting of just a bunch of deactivated computer consoles and some rusty swivel chairs. Scarabich grunted at the sore sight and began to unpack the demolition kit he'd brought with him to destroy the lab. The theory was to destroy the code mainframes before anyone had the chance to use them, but Scarabich and anyone else with half a brain knew that the Mavericks had already taken the bounty. This seemed redundant, the beetle thought as he planted explosive charges on each of the computers. Still, a job was a job, and so far things were going smoothly.

            That stopped when he got to the largest computer. He raised his arm to plant the final charge, but upon touching the mainframe Ground Scarabich stopped cold. His hand began to shake, and a cold feeling swept down through his entire body. His legs began to quake, and he wondered at himself. What was this, all of a sudden? Why was his body betraying him? His mind was all right, but the rest of him—

            The incident caused him to drop the still inactive charge to the floor and clutch at his head while grunting in something that wasn't quite pain but was alarming nonetheless. Scarabich spent half a minute in a strange Hell where bright flashes were his only reality. As time went on and the flashes repeated themselves, something began to change. Scarabich didn't know if it was just the repeated exposure or if the flashes were slowing down, but he could now clearly make out images…and they were nothing he would ever have expected.

            Scarabich saw Cyber Peacock standing there before him, the colorful bird's head thrown back and engaged in maniacal laughter. The normally frail Maverick seemed to radiate power, and for the first time in his life Scarabich was afraid of a peacock. Then Cyber's tail feathers snapped into position, and from the gemmed tips there flew the strangest lasers Scarabich had ever seen. He had studied each Maverick Boss in Gate's computer network, and he knew full well that Peacock's lasers were fairly weak and unconcentrated, meant more as a spread attack than anything else. His real skill was his specialized Aiming Laser, after all. But the rays of light that sprang from the Maverick's tail now were huge, thick masses of pulsating energy that weren't quite lasers at all in the usual sense. They were rather like short bursts of power, but incredible power, power that writhed through the air like an advancing cluster of wraiths, twisting and turning and homing in on Scarabich's position…

            …But when the impact came, there wasn't any feeling, though the image showed Scarabich that he was being pushed into some other realm, where all he could see was…red, he realized. It was all red, a dark, bloody red color that made his blood run cold.

            Then there came a voice, the strangest voice Scarabich had ever heard. But then, he wasn't really hearing, was he? No, he thought, this was something beyond his senses. The Sigma Virus? Could it be? That was the worst-case scenario, Scarabich thought. But the voice was not Sigma's, and it had no defining qualities to it. It wasn't a whisper, but neither was it a shout. It did not imply a very specific gender, though Scarabich found himself picturing a male behind the words. The voice was not bass or baritone, nor was it harsh or cold or warm or friendly. It was just a voice, and it seemed to be speaking to Scarabich…though the Investigator couldn't even be sure of that. Throughout the swirl of words the Investigator managed to pick out individual words, which confused him further. The voice was speaking constantly, but only the words that it seemed to want Scarabich to hear were the ones that came through audibly.

            **"I…am…"**

            "What?" Scarabich thought, hoping his thoughts translated into words in whatever realm his mind had been sucked into. "What are you?"

            **"I am…_war_!"**

            The effects of those words somehow slammed into Scarabich with physical force. It jarred the beetle, and he felt it even through his mental prison. "You are war?" the Investigator managed to wonder. "What does…that mean?"

            There was silence, and it seemed to Scarabich that he was being searched somehow from the inside out. He felt a presence probing at his mind, but it did not seem like the Sigma Virus. It wasn't like Scarabich had any experience with that plague, but he somehow just knew that this wasn't the program that used Sigma as its host. Then, finally, the invader had made his decision and it didn't seem very interested in Scarabich anymore.

            **"You…infidel."**

            "Excuse me?" the beetle thought back, retaining enough presence of mind to become annoyed.

            **"Don't try to stop me," **the invader said simply after a few more seconds of silence. **"It will be a waste of effort."**

            And then Scarabich was thrown back into reality with a speed that left all his systems disoriented. When the beetle finally came back to his senses he found himself staring at the large computer that had started this whole mess. His body was back under his own command, and all sensations from the experience failed. Then, acting quite suddenly, Scarabich drew his machine pistol and riddled the computer with shots until it was nothing more than a useless stack of shredded steel.

            "Infidel," Scarbich scoffed. "Whatever you say, pal." But he was more apprehensive than he let on. Whatever had just happened, Scarabich couldn't explain it, and that unnerved him because he was one who could find an explanation for just about anything.

            Scarabich hurried out of the haunting enclosure and rejoined Blizzard Wolfang in the garage, where it was both less dark and less claustrophobic. The wolf turned to ask his comrade how things had gone, but his voice failed him when he saw Scarabich's face. Scarabich just stared right back for a few seconds before sighing.

            "I'm all right, and the job is done." He shivered, perhaps because of the cold, perhaps because of something else. "Are we ready to blow this joint yet?"

            "No," Wolfang replied, much to his friend's discomfort. Blizzard motioned towards a long hallway at the other end of the garage.

            "Where's it lead?" Scarabich asked after seeing it.

            "No idea, Ground. But Blaze is gonna let us know," Wolfang finished, looking at the fireball that was screaming back towards them.

            Heatnix slowed to a screeching halt and touched down whilst fixing his comrades with a huge grin. "We gotta drop by the Hunter camp on the way out, pals! This is something they gotta see for themselves."

            "Does it lead inside?" Wolfang queried immediately.

            Heatnix nodded and chuckled darkly. "It leads right inside the eastern part of Seraph Castle. Whuddya know? The sunzabitches really DID leave the door open for us, or rather, the Maverick Hunters who choose to invade via good old UNDINE."

            Ten minutes later the trio of Investigators were trudging back through the snow after Heatnix lifted his two comrades back up to the surface. They'd jammed the gate computer to prevent the Mavericks from locking them out, and shortly afterwards Scarabich had detonated his charges, reducing all of the UNDINE lab to scrap. Their mission was officially complete, but all agreed that it would be right and neighborly of them to drop by and let the Hunters know about this convenient entryway into the heart of their enemy's defenses. Through it all Ground Scarabich said nothing of the images he'd seen, wondering if his friends would think him insane. He would definitely say something to Gate, however. This was not something he could just blow off.

            They had walked for five whole minutes before the shooting started.

            Heatnix was, of course, the instigator. The unruly phoenix spotted figures moving in on the ground. From the harried and somewhat fearful way they moved, he'd immediately taken them for Mavericks and moved in to attack. Still, he wanted to make sure before he went and cooked the wrong people, so he hesitated in an overtly vulnerable position while looking down on the seven or so targets. The enemy, equally unsure what to make of this big blazing bird that was suddenly now hovering over their heads like looming death, raised their weapons, and for Heatnix that was enough. The phoenix screeched a battle cry and sped out of the line of fire in his streak-of-fire fashion, leaving the forces below him startled and trying to regroup. Heatnix sent a Magma Blade down towards the enemies, which they dodged with little difficulty. They responded by unloading their weapons in the direction of up, knowing they'd be able to hit the nimble phoenix eventually.

            Blizzard Wolfang missed the initial encounter, but he didn't miss Heatnix's battle cry or the sight of lasers trying to transfix his friend. The speedy Reploid began a four-footed charge in the direction of the attackers. As he closed in he could hear voices above the din of weapons chatter and Heatnix's attacks. Just as he was about to leap over a snow bank and rip apart a surprised target behind it, a certain voice stopped him cold.

            "Christ, reload! I'll keep the son of a bitch busy! Stromm, get on that radio now and see if it works yet! By god, if there's any more interruptions we'll never find a spot to transmit this alert!" That was all that was said, but it was enough for Wolfang to recognize the voice of a Reploid he'd worked with in the past on a few secret missions during the Repliforce uprising…even Gate was known to help out the top secret Aegis Hunting Unit.

            Wolfang, playing a huge gamble, leapt backwards a distance and crouched in the snow. His head tilted upwards and he howled long and hard at the descending moon. The powerful cry stopped all other actions. The sounds of firing weapons died down. The frantic shouting vanished. Even Heatnix stopped darting about in the sky. Ground Scarabich rolled into position on another snowball, his weapon drawn, ready for action, but action would not be needed. After the howl ended there was a few seconds of dead silence. Then, finally, the leader of the other party spoke up via a great shout.

            "WOLFANG?"

            "CASTLE?" Blizzard shouted back in turn.

            Silence.

            "WOLFANG, YOU ASSHOLE!" Castle of Unit 8 appeared at the top of the snow bank that Wolfang had been about to jump. The cranky acting commander fixed his old acquaintance with a poisonous glare, and thinking quickly Wolfang motioned to the still tense Heatnix to settle down and join them on the ground. Scarabich put away his weapon and disembarked his snowball as Peter Stromm, Henry Wallace, Dantz, Acrystos, Brant Everett, and Deluge crawled after their leader.

            "Sorry about that," Heatnix said when he landed, feeling like a first class idiot.

            "Oh, you're _sorry_!" Castle grumped. "Almost roasted our communications uplink, which is for shit anyway but is currently our only link to Hunter Headquarters, but damn it, he's _sorry_!"

            "I said I'm sorry, pal!" Heatnix repeated, getting angry. "What the hell more do you want?" It was then that all three Investigators noticed the condition of their guests. In addition to seeming rather beat up, the looks on their faces were ghastly. Something terrible had just happened.

            "The airship?" Ground Scarabich asked, quickly hitting the nail on the head.

            "Ah, so you've already met the Ambassador from Satan," Castle affirmed.

            "It came right out of the site we were supposed to investigate," Wolfang explained. "Turns out they had a hidden garage down there where they were building that thing."

            "That must be what Delgado saw," Acrystos mused aloud.

            "Wuzzat?" Wolfang couldn't make that connection.

            "A Hunter pilot flying a spy run over Seraph Castle spotted something strange in the direction we're heading, which I'm guessing is the direction you came from. The Mavericks shot him down for his vigilance."

            "Ouch," Heatnix observed, pissing Castle off further with his simplistic reply.

            "The airship you saw showed up at the Hunter camp about fifteen minutes ago," Acrystos explained. "It attacked our massed forces and kinda devastated us."

            "And that ain't the icing on the cake," Castle inserted. "That flying boat is headed right into Megacity 5 with goddamned nuclear weapons and the goddamned city is goddamned undefended and we can't get a goddamned connection to the goddamned Headquarters!"

            "EMG field," Acrystos had to explain, again covering for her commander's temper. "It's jamming everything up there."

            "Try the radio now?" Scarabich offered, his first words thus far.

            Peter Stromm was already doing that. The whine of the portable radio device was louder than the wind, and the human raised his head to frown at his comrades. "The signal's going through."

            "Then what's the frowny face for?" Castle asked, concern seeping into his voice.

            "I'm not getting a response on the other end." At Stromm's words, even the howl of the blizzard wind shrank to nothingness.

            "Impossible," Castle breathed, even as dread paralyzed him on his feet. Unit 8's other members felt similarly, and even the Investigators displayed overt discomfort at the news. Fittingly enough it was Heatnix who took control of the situation, frowning and shaking his head firmly.

            "I don't buy it. That was not a fast moving ship, amigos. It ran into us, what, twenty minutes ago?" Heatnix motioned to Unit 8. "That means it took that thing five minutes to get to the Hunters, and for an aircraft five minutes is a very long time. Hunter Headquarters is in truth a good few miles away from this clump of rocks. I'd bet we've got at least another half hour or even forty five minutes before that thing gets into a firing position."

            "I agree," Ground Scarabich put in. "I got a good look at those big launchers. They can send the missiles far, sure, but not all _that _far, not without losing accuracy, which I imagine the Mavericks would like to maintain."

            "Well, all I'm getting is static," Stromm insisted after trying the linkup again.

            "Try the back channel," medic Brant Everett suggested. "Maybe they had a power outage, or some shit like that."

            "Fine time for one of them, eh?" Dantz grunted.

            Everett's plan called for connecting with radios inside Hunter HQ that were not a part of the base computer network. The uplinks that Signas was using to communicate with his field units ran directly off base computers and a base power supply. If that power were cut, then communications wouldn't be able to get through. Such a scenario had always been terribly unlikely due to the complexity of the Hunter security codes. No one assumed that anything would be able to throw the base power offline, but unless Hunter HQ was already a steaming pile of radioactive waste, which logic vied against, the scenario was that somehow the impossible had occurred and power was out. Portable radios, walkie-talkies, and other communicators, however, should still be fair game. Using these "back channels" was rather like calling someone on the telephone, a novel idea that Stromm had somehow failed to consider, else he'd have packed his cell phone.

            "I'm getting something," Stromm announced a minute later, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Stromm was communicating with something inside the HQ, meaning that the place had rather probably not been nuked. Still, as with placing a phone call, they had to wait for someone to pick up at the other end. Wolfang used the down time to speak to Castle about the discovery inside UNDINE.

            "We found something cool inside that old garage."

            "That so?" Castle asked, mildly interested.

            "You might want to give X a hint when you return," Wolfang went on, "that he can find the unguarded back door of Seraph Castle all gift wrapped and waiting with an innocent little grin at the base of the place he calls UNDINE." And that got his attention, Wolfang saw.

            "An entrance? You kidding me?"

            "Not at all," Heatnix interjected. "Checked it out myself. It leads right into the castle's eastern sector. I don't think they'll be expecting an infiltration party there!"

            Castle's eyes lit up and he seriously pondered the scenario, even as Stromm continued to wait for acknowledgement from HQ. "Look," he finally said to Heatnix. "Bird brain. You wanna redeem yourself?" Heatnix's feathers ruffled at the comment, but he did no more than glare. "Fly over to X and give him that bit of info right this instant."

            "I'm no errand boy," Heatnix all but seethed. "It's your mess, Hunter! You handle it! We've done our part."

            "Look, asshole!" Castle glowered. "I don't know if you maybe _missed _this, but there's a ship with nukes headed towards the center of a city with the probable goal of inciting a new rebellion. X and Zion are good leaders, but two minds think in two different ways, and last I saw them they were bickering like children. Those two are _pissed _at each other, and it ain't all their fault. It's a stressful scenario. But Zion wants to turn tail and head home right away to stop that airship, and X can't stand the thought of passing up such an utterly undefended Maverick base. The open back door thing might really sell his position. We don't have time to wait for us to trudge back up there through the snow. If there's a war, everyone loses, got it? Your boss is an enemy of the Mavericks, and they'll take you Investigators down too!"

            "He's right, Blaze," Wolfang urged gently. "Just fly to the Hunter camp, tell X, and meet Ground and I back at the spot we used coming into these rocks."

            Heatnix glared indignantly for a few seconds before simmering down and conceding the point. He threw a sloppy salute at Castle and beat his flaming wings, taking him into the sky, where he shot off like the fireball he was towards the spot where Unit 8 had come from.

            "Someone's coming!" Stromm announced right then. "It looks I called through a portable radio on base. Someone's coming on the other end!"

            "Well thanks be to Allah," Castle said with a huge sigh of relief. Then he turned to Ground Scarabich and Blizzard Wolfang. "I appreciate your help. We'll take care of the rest."

            "We'll return to the city," Wolfang nodded. "And if anything's amiss, the Investigators will hold the fort until the Hunters get back."

            "I'll drink to that." Castle glanced up at the sky, shivering from the cold. "It's a strange feeling, ain't it? This is the coldest night we've had all year around these parts, but in an eye blink it could become the hottest one in recorded history."

            "The UNDINE team reports success," Isoc announced as his colleague reentered the room.

            Gate nodded. "That's one relief, then. I still can't get through to Hunter Headquarters. Also, something seems to be going on in the city."

            "Spy droids?" Isoc suggested.

            Gate nodded. "Already done. I'm getting a good grip on what's going on in this city, one way or another. How are things in Brazil?"

            "The mission actually began eight minutes ago," Isoc reported. "The ground forces are moving and the bombing is about to begin."

            "Good," Gate thought aloud. "Let's give these bastards something to remember us by."

***

            The Breaker leaned against the tall, winding stump of a great tree, a beer in one hand and his rifle at his side. Next to him lounging in a similar manner was the most experienced member of the guard team that the Breaker had recently put together. His name was Ephemeron, and like his employer he was a stocky Reploid with a powerful build and a great skill with firearms. Ephemeron and the Breaker had done business together in the past, and both had a mutual respect for the other. They were both professionals, they both knew it, and they both knew that the other one knew it. And now they were both thinking the same thing: that perhaps they were in over their heads this time.

            Ephemeron crushed his empty beer can in a gray armored fist and let the remnants litter the jungle floor. He glanced about the sleepy camp, watching the other members of his team patrolling the area with Split Mushroom's original recruits. The Breaker followed his gaze, sipping at his still half-full can.

            "So tell me," Ephemeron said finally. "How much longer are they keeping you in this dump?"

            "Coupla weeks," the Breaker responded distractedly. "Maybe not even that long. Once the boys from up north show, my contract is fulfilled. And frankly, I'm not sticking around any longer than I have to."

            "Understandable," Ephemeron nodded. The gray mercenary looked up towards the sky and the approaching dawn. "What exactly are you suspecting?"

            "Scientists are coming to throw test tubes at us," the Breaker said blandly. "They might have some Hunters with them. Either way, this place is known to Gate and his crew, and therefore the Hunters know about it as well, so no matter what happens during my stay this place won't last long."

            "Kind of a waste," Ephemeron observed, staring at the mostly finished compound. In addition to the two main buildings there was a central command tower that linked them together. The tower was shorter than the other structures, which made everyone question the use of the term "tower", but it was still rather unstable, as the number one priority had been to get the barracks up and running. "After all this work, too."

            "I can't help it if that puerile fungus is short sighted," the Breaker said scornfully of his Maverick employer. "It's really not my problem."

            Ephemeron couldn't quite argue with that, and so they were quiet once more, both of them half relaxed and waiting for something they couldn't anticipate, which might not even happen at all.

            It wasn't the Breaker's problem, but it was definitely Mushroom's. The base commander was quartered on the upper floor of the smallish control tower, despite the Breaker's warnings that it was too unstable. What did Mushroom care if the place came down? That was what he had a teleporter for.

            No, his immediate concern was not the structure of his base, but the condition of its defense. According to the Breaker, this secret location was no longer much of a secret. Some kind of strike would inevitably come his way, if not now then definitely after Sigma launched his attack up north. After the Buzzbombs flew, the Hunters would come down on any Maverick settlement with the Wrath of God, and Mushroom had to be ready for when that time came. Ephemeron and his security team were worthwhile additions to Mushroom's infantry, but they still were not enough. He needed bodies, not drone guns, and the only bodies he'd be getting wouldn't come until after Seraph Castle lost its usefulness as a base. It wouldn't be long, Mushroom knew, but would it still be too late?

            The diminutive Maverick paced back and forth throughout the main control room. He was a fountain of energy, and when frustrated it was only worse. He could never take anything sitting down, and this was no exception. He had to move. Moving was when he came up with his best ideas.

            But nothing came, Mushroom conceded regretfully. And that was not good. Sigma would be here in a matter of days, and if he came to a base that was in ruins—or worse, in Hunter control—there would be serious trouble not only for the Maverick forces but for Mushroom himself, who would have to suffer his leader's wrath. He didn't fear death—contrary to popular belief, Sigma was not one who killed his own men. He was still a military commander, and a commander was ultimately loyal to his unit. The so-called Sigma Virus didn't scare the Mavericks since they were, after all, already Mavericks. No, Mushroom would not be killed, but he might well be demoted and reduced to peon status as a mere foot soldier, something Sigma had already threatened to do after Mushroom's failure during the fourth uprising. He would not be in Brazil now, he knew, if Sigma hadn't been so understaffed. This was his last chance to prove himself. If he failed, Sigma wouldn't give him any other opportunities.

            And so, he would not fail. He would stop any intruder himself, if it came to that. And when it all came down to it, there were a lot of Split Mushrooms to go around. The Maverick chuckled at the thought, even as a rainbow light covered his hands.

            Yes, this Maverick still had a few tricks up his iron sleeve.

            Alejandro Cortez was finally in position. He checked with his two wingmen and got confirmative responses, and opened up a channel with the base to get his final clearance.

            "Raiders One, Two, and Three are in position. Requesting permission to execute, over."

            The response took a few endless seconds to arrive. "Raiders One, Two and Three, base confirms. You are authorized to execute, over."

            And that was that. Cortez steered his fearsome Raider lower to the treetops, and his wingmen mimicked the action. They began to reduce speed, coming in slow enough that they'd have time to get their shots in but still fast enough that no one on the ground would be able to take them down.

            The Raiders were nearly silent, but only nearly. The air rumbled as they approached their target, and the treetops shook with a violent wind. Cortez eyed his targeting computer and soon came up with a positive targeting light. He thumbed the selector switch for his Sidewinders and let them fly, seconds before his wingmen did the exact same thing.

            The missiles took off and the Raiders pulled up, just as soon as the Maverick camp became visible to their eyes. Cortez found himself compelled to look. People on the ground were scrambling around like ants at a disturbed anthill, and the three target buildings were plain as sunrise. Cortez had to whistle at the way the Mavericks had designed the place to blend in with the surroundings. There had been serious thought put into this one. Too bad it would all go to shit in the next few seconds.

            The last thing Cortez saw before he passed the place up entirely was the approach of several black hovercrafts. He remembered now that there was a ground team moving in to clean up the mess Cortez and his crew would make. Cortez vaguely wondered if they would know to plug their ears to escape the shockwave and sound wave. Perhaps he should have told them that earlier, he thought.

            Not long after he returned to the air, Cortez saw the flashes illuminate the still dark jungle, followed by a rumble that was audible even inside his cockpit. He proceeded for a few more miles while checking his monitors to make sure that the enemy didn't send any presents his way, more specifically heat seekers. There were no warning, though, and Cortez slowly began to turn his jet around, increasing speed as he did so. A minute later the three Raiders were speeding back the way they'd come, though they were at a higher altitude and as such did not have to worry about hitting the hovercrafts. Cortez looked down again and saw a large, burning area below him. It looked like a success. He just hoped that the ground troops would be kind enough to douse the fire, or at least call for help if they couldn't. Maybe he should take care of that, he decided.

            "Raider One to base, mission accomplished. Advise you send a fire containment crew this way, over."

            "Copy that, Raider One," the chipper commander replied. "Raiders return to base. Your mission is complete, over."

            Cortez didn't waste any time speeding back towards the Brazilian air base, wingmen in tow. It was up to the folks on the ground now, he thought, though he doubted they would have much trouble, not after he'd done all the work for them.

            Everyone was tense. It had been a long night, and that meant that they had been out here too long. The enemy would see them eventually, they were sure. Good luck couldn't possibly hold out forever. They'd see a troop member who got careless, or maybe they'd lock onto Commander Yammark inside the hovercrafts. Whatever the situation, they'd be found out eventually. There was no way around it.

            Julio Gomez forced himself to stop thinking these thoughts of doom and concentrate on the task at hand. This was not easy, because for the moment the task at hand was to wait, while somehow at the same time managing not to be eaten alive by mosquitoes. Gomez felt like he was gradually turning into a single huge itchy lump. He'd demand hazard pay for this, he decided. Who knew what diseases those sunzabitches carried nowadays? Especially so near to a Maverick base, where the commander was known for biotoxins!

            The waiting continued for a few more minutes until finally Gomez heard Commander Yammark's voice in his ear communicator. "All right boys, we're on. The planes are in position. Plug your ears but be ready to move. There's gonna be a lot of shooting going on pretty soon, I'd wager. Stick to the plan and things'll be fine. Over."

            And that was that, Gomez realized with a long breath, clutching his assault rifle tight to his chest. It fired adaman bullets, which would work wonders on any Reploid target. Gomez had put in a special order for these bullets when he'd learned he'd be tackling Mavericks. No Reploid Nazi was taking HIM hostage.

            Despite Yammark's words, it seemed like years before the Raider jets actually made an appearance. Actually, they didn't quite appear, at least not at first. Rather, they were heard…

            …And _DAMN _were they _FELT_! Gomez hadn't ever witnessed destruction in any great form, but this more than satisfied a lifelong appetite. The six Sidewinder missiles came down in three pairs of two, shortly after the Raiders screamed past their heads, pulling up as they approached the target, their projectiles in their wake. Gomez watched in fascination, forgetting to plug his ears, as the missiles descended towards a spot very, very close to Gomez and his compadres. Shouts and cries of alarm reached him before the explosions began. There were six of them, meaning all six Sidewinders went off. The thundering booms all seemed to blend together after a while, and the shockwaves floored Gomez and several members of his unit. So began the worst few moments of Gomez's life, because when a man to his right fell down he accidentally fired his weapon, and the bark of the automatic weapon came during a lull in the explosions.

            Surviving Mavericks heard the shots, and some even saw the muzzle flashes. They responded with shots of their own in that general direction, and Gomez got to his feet in horror, brandishing his weapon and shouting orders.

            "Everybody MOVE! Follow the mission plan and we'll be fine! Now let's _kick some Maverick ass!_" He sounded much more confident than he was as he led the charge towards the startled, devastated, but still enraged Maverick base camp.

            Due to some strange premonition, the Breaker was not surprised by the attack.

            He and Ephemeron had just adjourned their sojourn when the scream of incoming jets first reached the mercenaries' ears. The two had sprinted for cover immediately, expertly veering away from any building and screaming for patrolling Mavericks to do the same. Plenty of folks heeded their warnings, which turned out to be in their favor when the Sidewinders came crashing down like the fist of Satan.

            The first two came down together and headed straight for the control tower. However at the last minute the other two, larger buildings seemed to demand their attention, and they tried to redirect themselves. There was not enough time, though, and they exploded near the control tower, heavily damaging it and everything in the vicinity.

            The second two Sidewinders headed straight for the first large building, the barracks, the one that would house Sigma and the others when they arrived from Seraph Castle. These two missiles didn't waver, and the barracks vanished in a hellish fire that blinded the Breaker and his allies.

            The third pair of missiles hit the second building, the development laboratory, and blew it apart like some kid kicking down a sandcastle. This went unseen by the Mavericks who were still alive, because their optics were still adjusting to the flare that the second missile strike had caused. But the effects were certainly felt, and after the third impact every Maverick in the area was sitting on their butts, stunned.

            The effect didn't last long for the more experienced units, mainly, the Breaker and Ephemeron. They sprang to their feet and began coordinating the surviving units. The Breaker spotted Tekki, a Maverick he'd hated earlier but now had come to respect, and sent him off with a small squad to fortify what of the buildings was still intact. Tekki was reluctant, as were most of the Mavericks, but once they were reassured that the air raids were over they did as they were told.

            For his part, the Breaker was enraged. There were a million actions for him to take, the most dominant one being to get the hell out of here, but his rage would not allow that, not yet. He'd seen this place built from the ground up, and to have it reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds was too insulting. He had to do something to make the enterprise worth it, he decided. He hoisted his huge rifle in his hands and snarled at the rising fire. Not yet, he thought. He wasn't done yet.

            Manny Rodriguez led the party that hit the Brazilian Maverick Headquarters first. The plucky human charged down the forest trail with his assault rifle at the ready. His gun fired high-powered lasers, which he thought were as good or better than the adaman bullets his friend Julio had suggested. Plus, lasers looked cooler.

            Yammark's field officer encountered his first resistance in the form of a confused looking Maverick who seemed to be running away from the fire behind him. He saw the massed invasion party and panicked, raising his gun to fire. One of Rodriguez's troops took him down with a well placed three round burst, and a Reploid on the team followed this up with a charged plasma blast.

            After smoking this poor bastard, the team approached the edge of the tree line. Past this was the Maverick base perimeter, and Rodriguez crossed it boldly. His group encountered next a ragtag Maverick team, and without wasting a single breath they opened fire.

            The Mavericks were slow in firing back. They had lost the initiative before the battle even began, because they were too disorganized to know if this group of people was their ally or their enemy. Clearly, though, these people were less than friendly, and Tekki started the party by firing his arm cannon repeatedly into the mass, even as several of his comrades fell around him.

            A human female soldier next to Rodriguez took one of Tekki's plasma shots. It burned a hole in her chest and she slumped to the ground, not quite dead yet but close enough for Rodriguez. With a low growl the human surged forth, leading his troops closer to the scene of carnage before them. Thankfully, Yammark's troops were angered and not terrified by the deaths of their comrades, and they meted out quick justice to the Maverick enemy.

            Tekki and Rodriguez selected each other as targets, neither knowing that their enemy was in command of the opposing party. Tekki fired the first shot, sending a ball of plasma screaming towards his human adversary. Rodriguez jumped to the side, but the sizzling heat of the projectile burned the flesh of his right calf. Pissed, he raised his rifle and sent a stream of glowing red laser bursts flying towards his Maverick foe, who used his superhuman speed to dodge most of them. Still, most was not all, and several shots burned holes in Tekki's armor, and one shot caught him in his right flank. Coughing up a bit of coolant, Tekki glowered and fired off several more buster shots. Rodriguez responded by sprinting like a madman, shooting and running for his life while hoping to the merciful saints that he would score more hits than his opponent…for indeed, just one of Tekki's plasma bullets would be enough to kill Rodriguez, a mere flesh-and-blood human who hadn't thought to procure suitable armor before the mission began. In the end, Rodriguez simply had the advantage of a faster gun. The assault rifle spat out rounds much faster than Tekki's buster could, and the Maverick had to dodge, too. Just as Rodriguez's clip ran out with a horrifying _clang _when he pulled the trigger, a four round burst stitched a line up Tekki's chest and burst his generator, dropping the Maverick to the ground like a used Kleenex.

            His personal battle over, the pumped Rodriguez turned to see what else was going on. His soldiers hadn't suffered any more casualties, thank God, and the Mavericks seemed to be retreating. Manny rushed to the largest group of his soldiers and learned where most of the Mavericks had fled.

            "Let's go!" he shouted, pointing in that direction. "Don't let the bastards get away!" He started off, followed by his equally pumped friends. "Stop running!" Rodriguez shouted. "Grow some balls! Where's your great power now, you genocidal assholes?"

            And then something bad happened: namely, the Mavericks grew some balls.

            This happened because another figure had rallied them around him. Rodriguez had to blink to allow his eyes to adjust to the shadowy figure, but when he got closer he stopped in his tracks. The Mavericks had a new confidence, because the man in the middle was a mushroom.

            But not just any mushroom, of course. For the first time that night, Rodriguez was worried.

            "I'm sure it's been fun," Split Mushroom hissed. "But playtime's over." Then he pointed his finger at Rodriguez and the Mavericks attacked.

            Julio Gomez was to attack the camp from the side, rather than the front like Rodriguez, in the attempt to catch the Mavericks even further off their guard. He led his troops with less bravado, but with equal confidence, for which he was very thankful.

            Gomez himself shot the first Maverick that came their way, and he wasn't all that proud about it, as the Maverick was mainly a terrified bloke running away without even a gun at his side. The shooting had been instinctive, and Gomez knew he hadn't exactly done the wrong thing. Still, it didn't seem to him like the _right_ thing. But there would be time for this debate later, he decided. Right now he had to approach the camp and rendezvous with Manny, who would more than likely need their help.

            The final approach ended prematurely when pretty much everyone rocked forward in a violent coughing fit. Human and Reploid alike found themselves susceptible to a strange purple cloud that had suddenly inserted itself in the air, and Gomez barely had time to wonder at it before a Reploid member of his team recovered and charged forward, immediately followed by a headstrong human. Gomez heard guns firing and someone shouting, and then he pulled himself together and stood up.

            The first thing he saw was the muzzle flash of a gun firing his way. Fine, he thought, at least he had a target. He shook his head to clear it and fired a short burst at the target as he approached, just to startle the bastard. Amazingly the shooting from that end stopped. No way, he thought, could he have been that lucky?

            Well, whatever the case he didn't have a target anymore, and so he pressed forward with the remainder of his unit coming forward behind him. What he found a little further ahead was quite disturbing indeed. The headstrong human was now doubled over like a sick dog, vomiting something fierce, and even the Reploid was fighting to keep his head on straight. That purple cloud was back, Gomez realized, and it was making them all sick.

            But that wasn't the only problem. Mavericks were shooting from the bushes, and Gomez immediately sent some adaman bullets their way, followed by the members of his team. It only took a few seconds before all shooting stopped, and then Gomez saw the strangest thing happen.

            The Reploid who'd charged ahead jumped back in alarm, suddenly besieged by two tumbling, cart wheeling forms made out of rainbow energies. Eventually he tripped and fell, and one of the forms charged right at him, exploding violently on impact like a plasma shot would. The Reploid shuddered and slumped to the earth, and the second form charged right at Gomez.

            But Julio had seen enough. He raised his gun and fired a burst of bullets at the form, but it just fizzled as the bullets passed through. _Nothing!_ This wasn't going to be easy. Gomez prepared to dodge, but just before he made his move someone proved the gesture worthless by unloading on the rainbow form with a spray of laser fire. The two bodies of energy conflicted and the form flickered and died.

            Stunned, Gomez looked around for the source of the strange attack, along with the rest of his confused unit. It dawned on Gomez just seconds before it would have been too late that the bodies of energy seemed to closely resemble a Maverick he'd seen in pictures before the mission began…

            "Mushroom!" Gomez bellowed, snapping the ammo cartridge out of his weapon and replacing it with a fresh magazine in one fluid motion. "Show yourself!"

            "Took you long enough," Split Mushroom's childish voice said. The diminutive Maverick bounced out of the shadows and didn't bother with much more small talk other than "You want a fight? You got it!"

            Despite his devotion to the Maverick's elimination, Gomez did feel discouraged. The Hunters had been forced to send X himself after this freak. How in the world was his bunch of part time soldiers and inexperienced Hunters going to do the job?

            It wasn't like he had a lot of time to think, though, and Gomez wasted no more time before raising his gun and opening fire on the Maverick, who nimbly dodged while generating more and more clones. It promised to be a maddening fight for all involved.

            Cortez's Sidewinders had divided at the end of their flight, and so they had missed the chance to remove the control tower from the face of the planet. Still, the destructive force had shredded most of the place, and while the rickety tower still stood, everything inside was a mess.

            This did not exclude the upper control room, which was now mostly in flames and falling apart more with every passing minute. Still, even all this did not greatly disturb the one active figure inside the structure. The battered, diminutive Maverick rested against what had once been a computer, breathing heavily with his arms clasped over his chest. His hands were balled into fists, and orbs of rainbow energies surrounded them and glowed strong. For him, that indication was all he needed, as it meant that he was still in the game.

            "Go," Split Mushroom whispered, seeing the battles unfold before his eyes. "Kill them…kill every last one of them! The bastards…how dare they do this to me?! I'll get them! We'll get them," he corrected himself with a raspy cough. "All of us will get them…!"

            Manny Rodriguez pressed himself behind a tree trunk, breathing heavily and wincing from pain caused by several close call shots like the one from Tekki. He'd been burned more than once by passing plasma, and the battle wasn't getting any easier. The Mavericks were closing in more and more, their morale restored by the presence of their leader, and Yammark's fighters were not prepared for such a determined enemy. If things didn't change soon, Rodriguez thought…well, it was best not to think about that.

            "What the hell is going on?" Commander Yammark snapped. "How in the hell did all of those Mavericks survive?"

            "Hell if I know," the hovercraft pilot retorted. "You saw that fire burn just as brightly as I did. Those jets didn't miss, so I dunno what the problem is!"

            "Take us in closer," Yammark ordered, and the hovercraft descended somewhat. The dragonfly Reploid knew he'd have to get in there eventually. His units were pinned down, and they needed a real soldier like Yammark to take on Split Mushroom, who was unfortunately still alive. If they could get closer, Yammark might be able to spot the group that needed the most help, and then he could fly down and…

            "Well," the pilot mused. "Speak of the devils."

            Before Yammark could ask him what he meant, he heard the answer for himself in the form of Raiders screaming overhead. Cortez and his crew were doubling back and heading for their base. Well, Yammark thought, it only made sense. Their mission was over, after all. Now it was up to his troops, and they weren't doing so well.

            Rodriguez had just about given up hope when the Good Lord granted him a new lease on life. Mushroom's maniacal laughter was suddenly drowned out by the roar of the returning Raiders, which whooshed overhead like they'd done earlier in the night. Rodriguez took advantage of the distraction to peek out from behind his tree and see what was going on.

            What he saw lifted his spirits immensely. Split Mushroom was stomping and shouting in annoyance at the interruption, but the regular Maverick guards were less active. They stared up at the sky, paralyzed with sheer horror at the thought of those messengers of death returning to their camp. The image of what the Raiders had done not five minutes ago was still fresh in their minds, and the thought of it happening again shook them to their very core.

            It had the reverse effect on Commander Yammark's soldiers. With a collective cry they rushed forward, all firing their weapons at once. One by one the Mavericks began to fall, completely unable to defend themselves. The ones that did react ran away screaming, unwilling to face the terror of either the invaders or their Raider cohorts.

            "No!" Split Mushroom raged. "No no no NO!" He leapt into the air, getting surprising height for someone with such short legs, and prepared to let loose another spray of his toxic gas.

            Manny Rodriguez spun out from behind his cover and riddled the Maverick with lasers, keeping the spray up and juggling the Maverick in the air. When he finally stopped the stunned Mushroom came crashing to the ground in shock, but his torment was not over. The other soldiers opened fire on his stunned form, and slowly began taking him apart. Rodriguez approached the scene just as Split Mushroom's body began to flare violently, and then it inexplicably burst into sparks, vanishing from existence without even a generator blast or spare parts lying around.

            Rodriguez and his men stared back at each other with mutual confusion for almost a full minute before they got over the moment and started charging towards the rendezvous point. Gomez would be waiting for them, Rodriguez figured, and if he wasn't then he had to be in trouble.

            "Tekki!" the Breaker shouted into his communicator. "Tekki, come in, goddamn you!"

            "He's dead," Ephemeron announced blandly. "They're all dead."

            The Breaker stared in shock at his wrist communicator for a few seconds before looking up at his fellow mercenary. "There's no victory here, is there?"

            "You were right to want to get out of here," Ephemeron confirmed. "Let's go."

            "Right," the Breaker conceded after a minute. He forced his mind to process the remaining exfiltration points he'd set up earlier. "There's a path we can use near the back of the barracks. Let's run!"            

Trouble was a fitting word for what Gomez was going through. The human had been doing his best to keep tabs on the real Split Mushroom, who was launching rainbow clones left and right and bouncing around the forest like a pinball. Adaman bullets were only useful against the real thing, while lasers were useful in scattering Mushroom's clones. Thankfully, Yammark's troops were smart enough to figure this out, and continued to pelt the clones with lasers while those with solid bullets continued to attack Mushroom himself.

            No matter how good a duelist Mushroom may have been, there were just too many soldiers around for him to function effectively. Since the battle started he'd only gotten off one good dust cloud attack, and the enemy had now figured out to shoot him down as soon as he got into the air to launch another cloud. Now that his Soul Bodies were ineffective, he was by rights a sitting duck. Still, he kept on fighting, which confused Gomez until the human finally managed to line up a headshot and put a string of adaman bullets through Mushroom's face. The Maverick shuddered, flashed, and burst into…sparks. Not flames, not bits and pieces, but…sparks. What in the world…?

            "Don't question it," Gomez ordered, motioning towards the path they had to take. "Let's go! This'll lead to the barracks, where we'll meet the second team! Let's MOVE!"

            The first light was extinguished too early for his liking. Split Mushroom stared at his right fist in shock, noting that the rainbow aura was now gone, signifying the death of one clone.

            "Impossible," the badly damaged Maverick sputtered. His disbelief turned to outrage when not thirty seconds later the light on his left fist sputtered and died.

            "No…" Mushroom shook his head slowly at first, and then started increasing the speed as his rage increased with it. "No," he repeated, pulling himself to his feet. "No, no, no, NOOO!" His arms shot out and rainbow energies poured out of each fist. Mushroom's generator screamed its protests, but the Maverick wasn't listening. The energies began to solidify into two more clones, and after another minute there were three of the same Maverick in the control room.

            Completely drained but with both fists glowing again, Mushroom slumped to the floor and remained there, not moving a muscle as his henchmen leapt out of the shattered window to go fulfill their murderous task. His generator was all but done for, having been nearly completely drained by the creation of four clones in so short a time.

            "I don't care," Mushroom told the floor. "I don't care. It's my last chance. I don't care anymore."

            By some twist of fate, Commander Yammark's plan went right to the point that Gomez and Rodriguez met each other at the exact same place at the exact same time. Unfortunately, there were others who were heading for the same spot, though they went unnoticed for a little while by the two field leaders.

            "Shit, Manny, it's _loco_!" Gomez said, out of breath. "It's all crazy!"

            "You're tellin' me," Rodriguez grinned. "But we made it, eh?"

            They almost didn't, because at that moment a grenade exploded nearby and sent shrapnel everywhere, including into Julio Gomez's right arm. The human cried out in pain, clutching the wound while his partner raised his laser rifle and unleashed a burst in the direction the grenade had come from, along with everyone else in the unit.

            However, the next attack was unpredicted. Someone raced from the bushes to the right of the troops, making a mad dash for the trail Gomez and company had just come from. Several people turned to fire, but a disturbance to the left drew their attention. Shots were flying everywhere now, and no one really knew who they were supposed to be shooting at.

            "Well lookie here," the pilot said, looking at his zoom cam. "Is that who I think it is?"

            "Affirmative," Commander Yammark replied, focusing his own optics on the path near the barracks, more specifically on the figure running away. "That would be our close and personal friend…Ix-88, the Breaker."

            "Imagine that," the pilot said, returning his attention to the flight controls. "You'd think the sonovabitch would have picked a better escape route, eh boss? …Boss?"

            But Commander Yammark wasn't in the hovercraft anymore.

            Manny Rodriguez had seen his fair share of tough enemies that night, but this guy looked like he took the cake. It was a big gray Reploid with an overlarge gun that doubled as a bazooka of sorts, and right now it was pointed at the clustered group of soldiers.

            "MOVE IT!" Rodriguez and Gomez roared in unison, and just like that the unit scrambled. They just made it, too. The shell erupted near the center of the pack, spilling some people onto the dirt floor of the rainforest. Then the group began to mass again, but this time there was no indecision. They moved towards the enemy, firing their weapons as one.

            For his part, Ephemeron hadn't noticed till now just how bad an idea this was. He'd frankly expected the Breaker's help, but in doing so he'd forgotten the major code of mercenaries: "Screw you, pal." It was all about self-preservation, and somehow Ephemeron had forgotten that.

            In the second it took him to arrive at a conclusion, drop his weapon, and raise his hands in surrender, four bullets tore into him, one in his leg, two in his right arm, and one in his lower gut. Ephemeron fell hard to the floor but kept his arms raised to the sky, hoping and praying.

            His prayers were answered in the form of Julio Gomez shouting "STOP! STOP, GODAMMIT! HE'S GIVING UP!" The next thing Ephemeron knew his hands were being bound behind his back, and a tranquilizer dart was jammed into his arm.

            "I'm just a mercenary," he repeated over and over as sleep took him, wanting them to know he wasn't one of the genocidal Reploids they'd come here to kill. "Just…a mercenary…"

            "Tell it to the jury, asshole," Rodriguez spat, and then looked up at the sky. "Hey, it's the bossman! He's flyin' after someone, looks like."

            "Well let's not just stand here, then!" Gomez decided, and then stopped. He frowned, watching his commander in action. "Hey Manny…the boss look all right to you? He's flying kinda weird."

            The Breaker had no immediate regrets about leaving Ephemeron behind. It was all about survival, and it had been from the beginning. Some people won, others lost. Ephemeron had lost. Now it was up to the Breaker to make sure that he didn't lose, too, and so far things were going well in that category.

            But then there came a sound behind him, a sort of buzzing. The Breaker turned his head as he ran, and beheld Commander Yammark, the goddamned dragonfly who'd started this nightmare for the Breaker all those weeks ago, coming after him with almost murderous intent. What, the Breaker wondered, couldn't anything go right tonight? Why were all his preparations coming to nothing? Why wasn't Manolin's virus doing something?

            Alas, when running at top speed through a rainforest, it does one well to look where one is going. The Breaker ran headfirst into the trunk of a very large tree and slumped to the ground, and for several critical seconds there he sat, stunned.

            Commander Yammark still had considerable altitude going for him, but now it was time for the descent, and the ultimate dive bomb attack, which involved zooming towards the ground at top speed and pulling up at the last minute to gore the Breaker from behind with the prongs that made up the dragonfly's hands, rather like a bull. He set up the angle, took a deep breath, and shot downward with all the force he could muster.

            But while the Investigators worldwide would get many lucky breaks that night, Commander Yammark would receive nothing of the kind. Deep within the circuitry surrounding the wings on his back, a hidden program woke from its hibernation, and slowly began to go to work. It first attacked the motor programs, and then worked to destroy the flight program all together. Manolin's Curse had come through, after all.

            Yammark first realized that he was in trouble when he could no longer control the direction of his descent. So, he tried to reduce his speed, finding that even this was impossible. This was quite bad, because he was heading at extreme speeds towards the ground below, and if he couldn't pull up…if he couldn't pull up, then…

            The air crashed around the Investigator, and he choked back a startled cry. Mechanical failure? Now? Sure, it could happen, but NOW? How could this be? How could he die like…like _this_?!

            The last thing Yammark heard before plowing into the ground was the alarmed shouting that came from his units as they rushed down the path the Breaker was using to escape. At least they were still alive, Yammark thought. Then he hit the jungle floor and the force of the impact literally snapped his body in half, shattering the upper portion and throwing the lower one somewhere in the trees. This was all accompanied by a burst of sparks and flames, though miraculously Yammark's chest hit the ground before his head, sparing his control chip serious damage, and equally miraculously his generator shattered but did not explode.

            Manny Rodriguez and Julio Gomez approached the remains of Commander Yammark, their employer and friend, and stared with shock, as did the rest of their team. Then their eyes slowly raised and fixed upon a figure near a tree, who was staggering to his feet and looking in disbelief at the scene before his eyes.

            "Kill him," Rodriguez said, loud enough to be heard by both his men and the Breaker, who was realizing now that his weapon had gone flying when he'd hit the tree. A Reploid stepped forward to carry out the order, but then something else went right for the Breaker that night: a spinning rainbow body exploded into the Reploid and seated him on the ground, twitching and trying to recover.

            "Impossible," Gomez and Rodriguez breathed at once. Then there came the sound of insane giggling….from TWO directions.

            The Investigators looked to the left and to the right, and beheld two clones of Split Mushroom…but the horror didn't stop there. The clones, acting in unison, held their arms in front of them and poured rainbow energies into an invisible mold. The Investigators were too stunned to do anything but watch, which turned out to be an amazing folly, since when the process was complete the "molds" took the form of…

            …More clones. There were four of them now. FOUR of the same Maverick Boss. And no Mega Man X in sight.

            "Shit," Gomez observed.

            "Shit," Rodriguez agreed.

            The Mushrooms laughed with insane glee and then the night's real chaos began.

            The control tower had been lucky since its conception. Even in the early stages it had been rickety due to a faulty foundation, and the threat of collapse had always been present. However even though it had been spared the full brunt of the Sidewinder attack, the additional damage was the straw that broke the camel's back…and this camel was coming down with a vengeance.

            The lower levels of the tower caved in first, and it really did cave. It imploded, and pretty much the entire lower sector vanished in flames. The small tower's upper section didn't last much longer, and the walls came in to crush anything inside.

            Split Mushroom heard it, but hearing was all he could do. The battered Maverick still lay on the floor, helpless to do anything about his predicament. He was still powerless from his cloning process, and his generator was still recharging itself. He couldn't move. He could only wait.

            "Why?" he asked the floor. It didn't answer. It never did. "Why?" he asked again, anyway. "Why now? Why now when I was about to WIN?" He didn't know how many times Sigma had asked himself that same question, but no doubt he would have found the answer fitting.

            The main control room caved in on itself, and Mushroom was crushed under a particularly large bit of debris. Seconds later the entire structure was nothing more than a burning, smoking, shredded wreck, as was everything—and everyone—inside.

            For the second time that night Manny Rodriguez gave up hope. The Mushrooms were dancing about like the freaks they were, sending out more clones than the Investigators could handle. Even worse, they'd been able to get their gas into the air once or twice, and that was taking a heavy toll. It wouldn't be long, Rodriguez decided, before all of the Investigators joined Commander Yammark.

            But then, for the second time that night, Rodriguez was touched by an angel. One of the Mushrooms leapt to his side, surprising him. He was defenseless and he knew it. He waited for the Soul Body to fly into his flank and kill him, but the attack never came. Indeed, all the insane laughter suddenly stopped, and all four Split Mushrooms suddenly started screaming, and clasped their hands to their big floppy heads. The sound grated Rodriguez's ears, but he did not cover them. Instead he raised his rifle to apply the deathblows to these infernal creatures, but that proved to be a worthless gesture. One by one the clones burst into sparks, for some inexplicable reason, until all Maverick presence in Brazil had finally been wiped out.

            "Hot damn!" Rodriguez breathed. "Hot DAMN!"

            Julio Gomez cracked a grin, but only briefly. Too many things crashed down on him at once. The battle was won, because of some unexplainable reason, but Yammark was dead. He'd crashed, which meant a faulty flight program. How had that happened? But that was a question he could save for later. He might even ask Ephemeron and his comrade, the Breaker—

            …The Breaker! Where was he?

            Gomez and Rodriguez had the exact same thought at the exact same time. "FIND HIM!" they roared. "Find that son of a BITCH and bring him back here!"

            "He must have slipped off when we were fighting that damn fungus," Gomez opined.

            "Shit!" Rodriguez spat. "And we HAD his ass, too!"

            In the end they searched for a good ten minutes before concluding that wherever the Breaker was, it was probably beyond their reach. Anyway, they had wounded—and dead—to collect, and Rodriguez signaled the hovercrafts to land and make a pickup.

            "Where's the boss?" one pilot asked. Rodriguez and Gomez responded by placing the two halves of their commander inside the craft. "Holy Jesus," the pilot breathed. "How did that…?"

            "Later," Gomez insisted. "Let's go. Let's just go home."

            "Right," the pilot said, though he hesitated. "Look…Gate wants a briefing."

            "Gate wants a briefing?" Rodriguez asked, getting into the front seat and taking the headset. "All right. I'll give the man a briefing, then."

The Breaker ran like he'd never run before in his life. His weapon was somewhere behind him, but he knew it would just be a useless extra weight at this point. If someone found him, they would kill him. No weapon of his would stop that from happening. Also, it wasn't as though he'd had the time to go looking for his gun. He'd barely managed to slip away shortly after the Mushroom clones—what a MADDENING method of attack—began their evil dance. Now he was rushing clear away from any path without any real notion of where he was going, until history repeated itself and he tripped on a tree root and fell face first into the tree the root belonged to.

            Stunned once more, the Breaker sat up and rubbed his bruised head, clearing out the cobwebs and using the precious few seconds of rest to catch his breath. Where _was_ he going, he asked himself. He wasn't safe in Brazil anymore—that was for sure. The Hunters would be looking for him with a vengeance. No, he'd have to flee this country immediately…and by immediately, he meant IMMEDIATELY, before the Hunters could page the military.

            That decided, he came to his senses and checked his teleportation system. Thankfully it hadn't malfunctioned or something, and even more thankfully he was currently in an area where teleportation was possible.

            But where should he GO? He wanted to be as far away from a major Hunter presence as possible…and that meant somewhere in the east, preferably the European Commonwealth, where Hunter presence was not as strong. There was always Russia, he reminded himself. That huge country housed plenty of woodlands in the frosty north. It would be a climate switch for sure, but at the moment that seemed as good a place as any…especially because, in Russia, there was plenty of open land to hide in if the authorities caught onto him.

            With that crude destination in mind, the Breaker held his breath and prepared for the most risky maneuver of his life—teleporting to the Brazilian Bureau of Transportation. Once at the BBT, he could quickly pay for teleportation to…hell, anywhere, be it Russia or a better option. Unwilling to wait even a second longer, the Breaker activated his teleporter and was off with a flash, leaving Brazil and all its bad memories behind him.

            It had been the hardest job of his life, and also the most dangerous, but he had prevailed. He was a survivor, after all, and he would continue to survive. He would make new contacts, and new allies. After all, no matter where he went there was always that one common medium: the fact that when one has money, one has power. And the Breaker had a LOT of money at his disposal, dirty money mostly, but money nonetheless. Therefore, it shouldn't be hard for him to regain what precious power he'd procured in this jungle. The future awaited him, and all his comrades here would have to do without his aid. Ephemeron was either dead or in Hunter hands, and he were it the latter he would not have much fun in the next few days.

            But that, as with most things, was not the Breaker's problem.

***

            "The mission is a success."

            "…But?" Gate probed, noting Isoc's emotionless, ghastly tone of voice.

            "The Maverick presence in Brazil has been wiped out."

            "…But?" Gate repeated, standing again and bracing for the other bit of bad news that the night wanted to throw at him.

            Isoc sighed and turned to face his colleague with a sorrowful expression. "Yammark died."

            Gate blinked. "Died? What…how did that happen?"

            Isoc's expression didn't change. "He went off in pursuit of the Breaker, Split Mushroom's security chief. Apparently his flight program malfunctioned, and he crashed."

            "Impossible!" Gate all but shouted. "I installed that flight program myself! It was supposed to be foolproof!"

            Isoc sighed again and shrugged weakly. "Whatever happened, it happened. Even worse, it seems that this Breaker fellow managed to get away."

            "Damn him," Gate seethed, though his true anger was not at Ix-88, but at the curse of fate that had brought his colleague and friend to his death. Commander Yammark was—had been—a true believer. Gate had recruited the Reploid himself, and this was the first instance where an Investigator under his control had died. With that thought, the anger died and Gate's mind settled into a more grievous mood.

            But the time for mourning would be short lived. The door to the control room opened and a messenger Reploid entered. "Dr. Gate, sir, the spy report is in."

            "What is it, Silas?" Gate asked with only half interest.

            "It's bad, sir," Silas said in a voice that almost quivered. He handed a file folder to Gate, who at first took it absent mindedly but then snapped to full attention after speed-reading the report. He ran some of the pictures through his optics before looking up at Silas with wide-eyed understanding. Silas was a young Reploid, after all, and had probably never come face to face with the menace of war.

            And war, in all its brutal harshness, was exactly what was taking place in the world outside Gate's laboratory. Unidentified battle machines, presumably occupied by Maverick elements, had more or less surrounded the Hunter Headquarters building in central Megacity 5, and even worse, the Megacity Army base was up in flames. Gate handed the file folder to the anxious Isoc, and turned back to Silas. "We still can't get through to the Hunters?"

            "No, sir," Silas responded, still nervous. "The Headquarters is still there, but we can't get through to anyone inside."

            "Jesus," Gate breathed, invoking a name that was more or less meaningless to him. "All right, Silas, you're sticking around. Isoc, wrap up these investigations and turn all of our resources to covering the city. In the meantime, keep trying to page the Hunters. If by some chance we do get through, we may be able to keep them in the know. Jesus," he said again. "Wolfang and the others are going to be coming home right through this mess."

            "They'll manage," Isoc offered, though it was a rather weak offer. What a night, Isoc thought as he turned to tie up the few loose ends that remained from the field operations. Both missions were successes, but the success was bittersweet in many ways, foremost being that there was now a war in their goddamned backyard.

            Isoc was enraged that he couldn't stop himself from wondering how many others would join Commander Yammark in the next few hours.


	36. Choices

Chapter Thirty-Five: Choices 

            While the Investigators were busy inside UNDINE, another particularly troublesome situation was brewing about a mile away. Too many things had happened in too short a time for anyone to be thinking clearly at the Hunter camp. Those who had gotten a hold of themselves had started to patrol the area, looking for Mavericks ready to launch another attack or tending to the many wounded. The airship had hit them hard, and now they waited impatiently for the order to return the favor.

            Commander Zion would have liked nothing more than to give that order, but he had strong dissention in this area. Were it anyone else, Zion would have told the loopy sod to go fly a kite, but one could not say such things to Mega Man X and expect a favorable response.

            "X, for the last friggin time," Zion said through clenched teeth. "All we're doing here is wasting valuable seconds."

            "So stop arguing the point!" X retorted indignantly, gesturing again towards Seraph Castle. "You know it's a good idea."

            "Yes, X," Zion replied, his patience withering fast. "It is a good idea, when you ignore the fact that there's an airship heading towards our home base."

            The scene had drawn several observers, chief of whom were Delates, Tyclammel, and Cort of Unit 0. The situation was that Zion, acting predictably, wished nothing more than to return to Megacity 5 and shoot down _Gallagher_ before it could open fire on the city. X, on the other hand, had decided shortly before Unit 8 set out that some of them should stay behind and take down Seraph Castle, a prospect Zion was not too thrilled about.

            "Don't you get it, Zion?" X was saying. "They want us to turn back! That's the plan!"

            "Yes, I suppose it is," Zion agreed. "And it was executed flawlessly…so flawlessly, in fact, that we have no choice but to follow their plan, because otherwise red winter is going to begin in that city and _it will NOT be on MY conscience!_"

            X shook his head at Zion's outburst. "You're losing it, friend."

            "No, X, _YOU'RE _losing it!" Zion stamped his foot in the snow. "The Mavericks most assuredly have troops on that airship. Once it reaches its destination those troops will pour into the city and then that ship will fire its nukes…or maybe it'll happen in reverse order. Whatever happens, we're going to need to be around to take down that ship, and the Mavericks it deposits. We're the Hunters, dammit! And when we're not there, what's that pussy Megacity Army gonna do? DIE, that's what!" He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down before facing X once more. "Seraph Castle can wait. We can handle Megacity 5, and then come back and—"

            "And what?" X asked coolly. "And storm an empty castle? They'll have evacuated by then."

            "Then what do you want?!" Zion exploded again. He almost continued, but at that moment Commander Archer appeared behind him and cleared his throat, halting the debacle in its tracks.

            "We've recovered from the initial confusion," Archer informed them. "We're ready to start back."

            "Turn them around," Zion said before X could get a word out.

            "Goddammit Zion!"

            "X," Zion glared, "this army is turning around one way or another. If you're coming with us, fine. But you'd be a damn fool to stay here. Even if the castle is less defended than usual, it still IS defended. Don't make the mistake of thinking your legend will carry you through this…you need more than that to beat a whole force of Mavericks."

            Now it was X's turn to glare. "My legend? What the hell is that supposed to mean? There's nothing legendary about me, Zion. I'm just good at what I do. I never rely on a 'legend' to scare my opponents. I let my fighting skills do that." He paused to let the hostility evaporate before going on. "And I'm not saying I want to tackle the castle alone, either."

            "No," Zion agreed. "You want to take our best forces with you and invade. News flash, X: we NEED those elites, now more than ever. You especially."

            "No you don't," X countered immediately. "I'm a duelist, not a general. That, Zion, is your job. I'm an infiltrator, not a berserker. That, Zion, is Zero's job, though you'll have to find a replacement for him, too."

            At the mention of Zero's name Zion's face changed. "You think he's still in there?"

            "If he is I'm damned well going to find out," X stated flatly. At this point Delates, Cort, and Tyclammel started getting more interested.

            The conversation was again interrupted when several Raven jets quite unexpectedly screamed over their heads, heading back off in the direction of Megacity 5.

            "Someone must have gotten through," Cort observed.

            "Yeah," X agreed, his spirits uplifted. He looked back to Zion. "See? Taggart's flying back to join Tremont's team. They'll handle that airship. All I ask for is a very small team of soldiers to help me. I can sneak through security and assassinate key Maverick personnel, but destroying the castle will be another matter. Sigma always used to build his bases dependent on their foundations. Since Seraph Castle was built while Sigma was still alive, I think it's safe to say that this place will work the same way. I need a demolitions team to hit the foundation while I chase the big prizes."

            "And what might those be?" Zion asked frostily.

            "I don't know!" X shot back. "We don't know who's in that airship. Maybe the Maverick bosses are still sitting in that castle, laughing at us as we turn around and flee from them. In fact, I'm pretty sure they are!"

            "If there's a chance Commander Zero is in there," Delates piped up, "then Unit 0 is in the fight." This earned him an annoyed look from Zion, but the Hunter general eventually sighed and threw up his hands as the Hunters behind him began their march back home.

            "Who do you want, X?" Zion finally conceded.

            Five minutes later everything was in order. X would lead a tiny infiltration party consisting of himself and several Unit 0 members: Delates, Tyclammel, Cort, Feldspar, and Lyon. Jasper would act as the commander for X's 17th back home, while the rest of Unit 0 went back with the 17th to manage their individual squads. Their departure, however, suffered another setback when a flaming messenger descended from the skies.

            The first thing that the startled, harried, and nervous Hunters thought to do when they saw Blaze Heatnix touching down near their commanders was, acting in proper response to the sudden scenario of having a big burning phoenix approaching your superiors, to empty their weapons in an attempt to turn the golden bird to slag. Heatnix's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he threw himself into the snow as a multitude of blasts whizzed overhead.

            "Stop!" X and Zion were both shouting, waving their arms frantically and standing between Heatnix and the attacks. The Hunters did stop, seeing their leaders taking charge of the situation, and Blaze Heatnix was free to stand, soaked with snow that had melted on contact with the curtain of heat that seemed to radiate from him at all times.

            "The HELL is the matter with you people?!" Heatnix finally exploded after several seconds of bewildered panting. "That's the SECOND time you assholes tried to kill me tonight!"

            "What do you mean?" X asked.

            "And make it quick," the antsy Zion put in. "We've got places to go."

            "Well excuse me, Captain Importance. I happen to have information that just MIGHT be of some use to you folks." Heatnix swelled at the revelation that he knew something the Hunters didn't know. He soon divulged the information, though. The Investigators had found a hidden entrance to Seraph Castle in UNDINE. Also, Unit 8 had contacted Hunter HQ, but the power seemed to be out. He noted the look of shock that had gripped the Reploids around him and he had to shake his head. "The base is still there, all right? But you'd best get your asses back there to make sure it stays that way, y'hear?"

            "Roger that," Zion affirmed, with a look at X. The cerulean Hunter just blinked and turned to thank Heatnix, who soon after departed to meet up with his fellow Investigators and return to Megacity 5. Minutes later, after bidding farewell with Zion and his army, X and his small party set off in the direction of the UNDINE site. Not long into their journey they found themselves disturbed by a long, loud cry…

            "AHOOOOOY THERE, WORTHY SIRS!"

            The startled X lowered his buster after recognizing the voice that was trying hard to pierce through the wind. The rest of his party squinted to see through the snow and identify the party that was moving their way. It was a group of seven shivering Hunters, and one was holding a radio of some sort.

            "PERMIT ME TO INQUIRE," their leader shouted over the roaring blizzard gale, "WHEREFORE A RIGHT AND RATIONAL SORT LIKE YOURSELF WOULD BE WALKING IN THIS PRODIGIOUS CHILL? MASTER X, I SURMISE?"

            "CASTLE, YOU FRIGGIN WEIRDO!" X shouted back, trudging forward. "PLEASE TELL ME YOU ACCOMPLISHED SOMETHING OTHER THAN SNOBBISH VERNACULAR?"

            "Oh of course," Castle responded now that they were close enough to talk more normally, though they still had to speak up. "I learned from that scarab beetle character how to make a giant ass snowball. But aside from that, Stromm there made contact with Hunter Headquarters, and everything there's a mess. The power's out for some reason and they suspect a hacker."

            "A hacker?" Delates asked, blinking. "How'd a hacker get into our network?"

            "The Mavericks do have Cyber Peacock on their side," Cort pointed out.

            "Yeah," Castle affirmed. "And all Peacock needed was a traitor on the inside. But that's been taken care of."

            "Has it?" X asked.

            "Yeah," Acrystos put in, her voice somewhat shaky from a night of creeping around in icy cold snow, "there was a battle of some sort near the computer room. There were several casualties reported, but they don't know any names yet. Everything's so frantic."

            "Jesus," X observed. They were taking casualties inside their own base now!

            "It gets better," Castle restarted. "Apparently they lost contact with both Alden Base and the Megacity Army, and rumors of a Maverick force in the city have been circulating."

            "Oh, SHIT!" X and Delates both exclaimed at exactly the same time.

            "You guessed it, sirs," Castle said with a mirthless grin. "They're boxing us in and preventing our escape, so we'll be a sitting duck for the Buzzbombs."

            "Sweet Jesus," Tyclammel breathed. "I hope Zion gets back fast."

            "Hey yeah," Castle blinked. "Why aren't you with him?" X explained hastily, and Castle nodded. "Well, then…seeing as we're already behind the pack…you want us to tag along?"

            "No," X decided at once. He looked around at the surrounding environment, as if in deep thought. Then he nodded and looked back to Castle. "That is, I think I have a better idea for you folks. Is this place good for teleportation?"

            "The radio worked, so I don't think there'll be a problem," the large Dantz opined.

            "Don't forget about us humanfolk," Henry Wallace reminded them.

            "Damn," X swore as he nodded. He'd forgotten that humans couldn't safely teleport. "Well, call up the Ravens on your radio. Get one or two of them back here to pick up Stromm, Everett and Wallace and fly back to Headquarters. After the jets leave, the rest of you just teleport back to the base. I have a gut feeling that we'll need some kind of fighting force to keep the base safe until the others arrive."

            "And you guys are infiltrating the castle alone, then?" Acrystos said airily.

            "What of it?" X asked, picking up on the insinuating tone.

            "Look," she explained. "You're good at this infiltration stuff, X, but from the plan you described you'll be branching off on your own and leaving these guys to the demolition work. Now, Unit 0 is capable as hell, but Unit 8 is the group that specializes on infiltrations and stealth in particular."

            "You're needed at the base," X insisted.

            "I know," Acrystos agreed. "But not ALL of us." She addressed the others. "You're good, but most of your efforts will be put to use in setting your explosives. It wouldn't hurt to have someone watching your back. I'll go with you as a rear guard, or an advance scout. I'm sure you can testify how useful one of those would be, X."

            X sighed, because he could indeed. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

            "It would be a wise move," Castle urged, though cautiously.

            "See?" Acrystos rested her hands on her hips and presented X with a pose of utmost confidence. "I can take care of myself. I've got years of experience with this unit. And with others," she added, casually enough that you'd think nothing of it were you not privy to the information X was. This one was an Aegis troop, X knew. She was a veteran of Caligula's secret program, and like Castle and the others who doubled as regular Hunters and Aegis agents, she could indeed take care of herself and prove a fairly valuable asset.

            "Fine then, it's your choice." X glanced back at the other five Hunters with him, noting no looks of resentment towards Acrystos's declarations. They knew she wasn't insulting their abilities, which was something X was infinitely grateful for. It was so nice to be working with the cream of the crop again, the kind that didn't let their egos get in the way of their work.

            And so these two parties split. Peter Stromm contacted Jimmy Taggart, who reluctantly dispatched the two Ravens that were farthest behind to speed like hell back to the spot where Unit 8 was waiting. This never would have happened under these circumstances, but Taggart happened to like X's proposed plan. In truth he doubted whether his Ravens, even all together, could put up enough of a fight to down that big airship, and if they couldn't do the job…well, he did want there to be some kind of fighting force waiting at the HQ, and this pickup would be fairly speedy anyway. Besides, Alec Tremont and company were already back at the HQ, and recent reports indicated that they were lifting off again after refueling and rearming…something Taggart's team still needed to do, the commander thought ruefully.

            X's party, on the other hand, continued the cold journey to the gaping hole in the ground that signified the UNDINE entrance. Along the way Delates caught up to X and asked a question that had been on his mind ever since Heatnix delivered his message.

            "So, uh, bossman…what exactly is our plan?"

            "Plan?" X turned and grinned. "The plan is to jump in that hole when we get there, find the door, and figure out what to do from there."

            Delates blinked. "That's it? That's how you conquer all these fortresses? By making things up as you go?"

            "Of course!" X replied with a laugh, something he hadn't done yet tonight. "This time, though, I've got you guys to take care of the trickiest part."

            "What about the Maverick chieftains?" Delates had to ask. "Doesn't the thought of fighting them all alone ever make you nervous?"

            "Of course," X admitted freely, trudging over a larger snow hill. "Thankfully, though, I have this one really cool asset…well, remember what Zion said about my 'legend'? Well, it don't mean much to me…but by some miracle I've managed to defeat whole scores of Maverick bosses in my day, and those Mavericks in there know it. That's why there is somewhat of a 'legacy' about me…the Mavericks start the fight already thinking in the back of their heads that there's no way they can beat me, which is entirely false."

            "Mind games," Delates observed with a nod. "And here I thought you just ran in there and shot them all in the heads."

            "Sometimes that works too," X agreed. "But there's more than one way to defeat a Maverick. Remember that, just in case you guys find some unexpected surprise down there. Truth be told, I have this feeling…and my feelings unfortunately tend to be correct. I feel that there's something the Mavericks haven't made public yet, and I don't have the damndest idea what it is. Still, something just feels…off."

            "Doesn't it always?" Delates shrugged it off. "We'll find out soon enough. And even if they are hiding something, it shouldn't be anything the Hunter Elite can't handle."

­­­____________________

            Mavericks were bouncing up and down all around her, chattering with nervous excitement to others who, like themselves, had been left behind to guard the castle. Rather then sending their best troops to Megacity 5, or conversely saving their best troops to guard Seraph Castle, they had sent a fairly well mingled force to the city and kept a smaller but equally mingled bunch at home. This way there wouldn't be any one area left weaker than the other. The Mavericks inside Seraph Castle were still charged with energy from the _Gallagher_ attack on the Hunter forces, and they were displaying it by making more noise than a schoolyard of hyperactive kindergartners. Teytha found them more than a little annoying.

            The slender assassin wandered through the sparsely populated but still noisy corridors, having finished completion of a security measure Sigma had insisted on. The measure in question would have sent a number of chills down Hunter spines had any learned about it, but so far that had yet to happen. Even Zero still didn't know, and Sigma had more or less told him everything. Well, it only made sense, Teytha rationalized. If Zero managed to escape with knowledge of the "Spare", he wouldn't rest until it was demolished. Actually, the more Teytha thought about it the Spare didn't seem as much a security measure as it did a final weapon of sorts. It wouldn't help any of the fighters at Seraph Castle, but on a later date its curse would resonate throughout Megacity 5. It was a vengeance weapon, then, just like its brethren.

            "Vengeance," she mused aloud, though quietly. "The Nazi Vengeance One Program…the V1 Buzzbombs." It was hard to believe that the Hunters hadn't made that connection yet; the name "Buzzbomb" was every bit as symbolic as it was literal. Greenback had even designed an engine program that emitted a noise that passed for a hornet's buzz. How would the Hunters react to THAT?

            She didn't know, and, she realized as she rounded another corner, that left her with nothing else to dwell on for the moment. She actually had finished securing the Spare a good fifteen minutes ago, and had spent the intervening time just…wandering. It was odd that now, when there seemed like there should be so much to do, everything was taken care of. Such was the result of a carefully executed plan, but its downside was that Teytha hadn't the faintest idea what to do with herself. In past times, she'd handled this by withdrawing into herself and passing the time by thinking, and it was a habit she'd carried with her into the Maverick ranks. 

Again there came to mind the whole theme of vengeance. They'd killed two hated human enemies for it. They were waging war against a powerful army to lure their true targets into the open…something Gredam was risking his life to accomplish. And all of it was for…vengeance? Well, there was the element of personal safety, too. Once all remnants of the Terrornova leaders were removed, then the displaced assassins could live without fear of discovery. Oftentimes Teytha had wondered if this was even necessary. It could be argued that in the grand scope of the world's problems, the issue of escaped pawns wouldn't matter at all to their former oppressors. However, further analysis led to the understanding that the Terrornova assassins were not just normal pawns. The secret they carried could unravel the Maverick Hunter army, and for that they would be hunted with extreme prejudice if they were ever identified. So, it was necessary to do all this after all. And that wasn't to say that Teytha didn't relish the thought of Komanov, Thornton, Kitao, and Virdelko getting their just desserts. In truth her general hatred for them was probably greater than any of her three other comrades, and she would shed no tears about their deaths. Two down, she often thought, and only two to go. And then, of course, there was Chartreuse, but Teytha tried not to think about him. She still had occasional nightmares in which Chartreuse's blade slashed her way in that fatal stroke from the fateful battle in the Chancellor District, a memory she sorely wished would have been nixed during her reconstruction.

            There was another concept for her. She'd faced death once, and for her it was by far the worst of things. Some Reploids could just dash out and sacrifice themselves for a cause, but she had spent the majority of her life just clinging to her life, and it wasn't something she'd throw away for just anything. Was vengeance a good enough reason, then, to take the ultimate risk?

            Before she had a chance to answer that crucial question, she quite suddenly snapped out of her zombified state and found herself staring at…a door. She blinked a few times, fully alert but wondering why she'd led herself here, of all places. She knew what was behind the door, and it was nothing she really wanted to deal with. She also wasn't much of a believer in fate or omens, but in this case she found herself compelled to open the door and enter. This she did, and only when inside did she fully realize that she didn't have the slightest explanation for her being here.

            The room's lone occupant raised his head and peered at her from behind electrified bars, interested in the identity of the one who was disturbing his relative peace. The scarlet Maverick Hunter blinked a few times at the stationary figure before him before his eyes seemed to make a connection. "Miss Teytha, I suppose?"

            She had to blink herself a few times, taken aback. "You're well informed."

            "Better than when I came here," Zero replied in somewhat of a monotone. "It's kinda ironic. It's not every day that you learn more classified information straight from your enemy's mouth than from all your intelligence sources combined." He sat up and scrutinized the woman who Malevex had referred to several times, and who he'd seen briefly during the Blackstar 5041 mission. He found her rather unremarkable as a soldier, though her litheness of frame would make her quite the nimble one in combat.

            Teytha found herself scrutinizing Zero in much the same manner. This big, red armored blonde man didn't much look like anything that would inspire instant terror in his foe's hearts. It was his reputation that did that, she knew, and it was his penchant for carrying grudges that had kept Malevex nervous for years after murdering Zero's friend Mea.

            "You're one of them, then?" Zero asked, showing some interest. "Was it really as bad as I'm told it was?"

            "As bad and worse," she replied frostily after a moment's pause.

            Zero nodded slowly, accepting the truth of his opponents' backgrounds. "You're going to do it for vengeance, then?"

            "Among other things," she said after another pause, wondering what she was still doing in the room. Half of her wanted to turn and leave, and avoid these questions that were bringing up memories she'd tried hard to forget. The other half, the stronger half, kept her feet riveted in place, and compelled her to learn more about this puzzling man that Sigma was so interested in, and Malevex was so wary of.

            "Isn't it kind of unfair?" Zero asked after almost a full minute of silence. "All those people, just for revenge against a few assholes?"

            At this a little laugh escaped her lips, despite herself. "You think you can talk to me about 'unfair'? What was unfair was your friend and others like her dying because of no crime other than existence. What was unfair was us suffering for no reason other than convenience!" She found herself getting very angry at what she thought was a foolish statement on his part. "What was unfair was being hunted like dogs and slaughtered en masse just because we were 'no longer needed'! Mavericks die because they rebel freely against government and lose. You died because you freely chose to give yourself up for a cause you believed in. Why did we die? For the hell of it! That's what's unfair, Hunter! If some collateral damage is caused making up for that, why should I care?"

            "Because it makes you just like them?" Zero ventured, trying the old ruse for lack of anything better. "You're burning people with nuclear fire just because they happen to be in the way. You're killing them for the hell of it."

            "No," she shook her head. "We're using advanced weapons…weapons that won't reach far enough to incur huge civilian casualties…which I can assure you Sigma doesn't care about. We're nothing like them. I've killed people, but because I had to and it served some purpose, and I've more than not regretted it. But I faced the Traitor's blade for no reason other than that he was bored and wanted someone to kill, and he happened to work for people who needed killing done." She stopped at that, amazed that she'd gone that far and opened that Pandora's box of foul memories. Zero evidently noted it, and he was quiet for a while before speaking again, fairly gently and with a tone of concern that even surprised himself.

            "Who killed you…?"

Teytha recoiled, instantly on the defensive. What the hell right did this guy have to ask that…? A million ways to tell him to mind his own goddamned business surfaced in her mind, but something stopped her from voicing any of them. Maybe it had to do with the way Zero had asked the question. She couldn't form any answer in the contrary, though, and so just stood somewhat paralyzed until Zero spoke up again.

            "The Traitor…Mortar and Malevex talked about him," Zero clarified. "I know who the other Terrornova leaders are. I just…I wanted to know the other one."

            "They didn't tell you?" she finally managed, still trying to avoid saying the bastard's name.

            "No," Zero sighed after a second. "I'm sorry," he added, again lacking the animosity she'd expected from him. "I shouldn't have—"

            "Chartreuse," she said quietly, surprising herself. She hadn't repeated that name in years. None of them had. However it seemed that Zero was speaking to her as a Reploid and not as a Maverick…something no one outside their ranks had ever really done before. It made her more willing to talk, even though half her mind was screaming at her for it. "It was Chartreuse," she repeated, almost whispering, though Zero heard it well. "He worked as kind of a taskmaster for them, and then as a bloodhound when it was all over. We call him the Traitor because he helped the humans do those things to his race." She stopped, wondering at herself, and yet felt somehow…better about something.

            Zero, for his part, was revolted and showed it. Somehow in all his puzzling over the Terrornova situation he had never made the connection that Chartreuse, Alan Kitao's longtime personal bodyguard, might have been involved with these horrors. Horrors? Yeah, that's what they were. Zero was more than ever finding himself siding morally with the Terrornova crew on their quest for revenge. However, while he sided with them as Reploids he didn't side with them as Mavericks—which had been Sigma's trap, he realized. Sigma had brought him to this castle to whittle away at his inhibitions while using the Terrornova group to make him sympathetic to the Maverick cause…but in effect what he'd done was increase Zero's resistance to it. In his opinion, Sigma was manipulating the Terrornova group to achieve his own means, corrupting what otherwise would have been a cause Zero could have supported. It was a fairly distorted way of looking at things, but for the moment it allowed Zero to hold civil conversation with someone who otherwise—and probably would soon be—his opponent, much as he'd done several times with Malevex already.

            Chartreuse, though…Chartreuse! Jesus, he'd been right next to the man before, talked to him like a friend…hell, he even remembered one occasion when the Unit 0 and Chartreuse's Dragoons were drinking together at a bar! It was revolting to think that he was even remotely connected with the man who'd…yes, he realized, the man who'd really killed Mea, perhaps even more so than Kitao and Malevex. He raised his head to look at the woman who had been one of Chartreuse's many victims…and threw her a look that completely mirrored her feelings for the hated Traitor.

            "Why not just kill him?" Zero asked next. "It's Chartreuse, Kitao, and Virdelko that you hate, right?"

            "Wrong," she shook her head. "It's the entire Hunter army we hate. Even now they do the same things Terrornova did. They use Reploids, and when they grow too powerful they discard them! Just look at the Repliforce." She calmed down somewhat. "Anyway, even to target those individuals would require an attack on the Hunters. It's the only way to make them show themselves…and it was the only way to gain Sigma's support and backing."

            "So you'll sacrifice a multitude of people for your revenge?"

            Teytha took a deep breath, carefully choosing her words. "In the end, Hunter, what do morals or personal causes matter if you don't have anyone to share them with? The end of every conflict sees the opponents fighting to defend their friends, regardless of whatever mission or crusade they had originally fought for. So yes…to keep my companions alive, I'd sacrifice any number of armies. Innocent or otherwise," she added, somewhat coldly.

            Zero was silent, absorbing the statement with regret. Inside this cage he was powerless to defeat these Mavericks, and all he had on his side was word of mouth. If he could convince just one of these Mavericks to stop the nuclear attacks, it would be as great a victory as beating them all in combat. However first Malevex and now Teytha had stated that their ultimate intention was to defend their allies by all means necessary, and Zero didn't believe anything could change that. So, this could only be resolved by fighting? _Right_, an inner voice reminded him. _First you need to get out of the cage, genius._

            During the silence Teytha found her innate conservativeness returning, and she began to question again why she was here with the Hunter. She threw him one last resolute glance and left the room. Strangely, as she walked she felt like a strange weight had been lifted off her chest. Perhaps up to now, she thought as she resumed her wandering, she had known her intentions but questioned their legitimacy. Now that she'd presented them to someone who hadn't been able to disprove them, she felt reassured about what they were all doing.

            Her wandering took her outside into the cold air on a balcony catwalk overlooking the surrounding environment. There was still snow blowing, but the blizzard had either died out or was experiencing a weak moment. She could make out the bottom of the castle far below her, but nothing more than that. The wall of the catwalk rose well above her waist, and it was safe to rest her elbows on it. She closed her eyes and listened to the wind, letting it toss her raven hair freely. It relaxed her, and nowadays that was something to be appreciated.

            Her eyes opened of their own accord and she stood, sensing another presence. She looked back through the opening that led out to the balcony and saw Malevex walking down the hall. He seemed to be in a trance similar to the one she'd just escaped from, which she didn't blame him for. Unlike the rest of them, he'd been operating without sleep or any other form of recharging for a long while. Since he was in charge of maintaining Seraph Castle's security, he had a lot of extra tasks to handle. Still, Mortar had been right when he'd said that Malevex wouldn't be worth a damn in a fight if he keeled over in the middle of it.

            "Having fun yet?" she found herself saying. Her voice carried over the light wind and even penetrated the cloud of his haggardness. He stopped, blinked, and spent a few seconds looking for the person who'd just talked to him.

            "It's quite a party," he replied when he found her. He stepped through the door to join her on the balcony. "Who knew taking over the world required so much red tape?"

            "Taking over the world, are we?" she asked listlessly. "Seems pretty complicated."

            "Yeah," he agreed, rubbing at his eyes. "I think I'll just stick to fragging the fat cats." Her reaction to that was a bit reserved. "Something wrong…?"

            Teytha shook her head and looked back out at the snowfields. "It's nothing."

            "Mm." He turned as well and looked out at the same snowfields, actually trying to scan for life forms moving in. After mentally reprimanding himself for his paranoia he returned to the matter at hand. "You know whenever you say that, it's because you have some parasitic leech hanging onto your soul."

            "Eloquent as usual." She sighed and glanced at the night sky, which she knew would soon enough give way to dawn. "I had a conversation with Zero, is all."

            "You did?" he asked, somewhat surprised. "Why'd you do that?"

            "I'll tell you when I figure it out myself." She paused, unsure whether or not to go on, but just decided that if she could open up to a Maverick Hunter she could certainly open up to this man, her closest companion…it was something she'd been wanting to do anyway, she admitted. "I just didn't know if we were right."

            "Uh oh." Malevex turned his head to look at her. "When did we ever worry about what was 'right'? Mostly we do things because it's necessary."

            "But this is different," she insisted. "This is our own free will. If we can blame the humans for doing the wrong thing, when do we become responsible for doing the _right_ thing?"

            He was silent for a while, unable to come up with an immediate answer. "And what did you decide…?"

            She looked right at him and smiled weakly. "Maybe we were justified in revenge. But we're involved in much more than that now. I guess, though, it all comes down to sticking with each other, like we've always done. That's why we all came here together…wasn't it?"

            "More or less," he admitted with a sigh. "The revenge, the missions, they were just covers for us not being able to adapt to anything but fighting. But, really, what better is there to fight for? As far as I'm concerned, so long as you, Gredam, or Mortar are still in my sight I'll do anything it takes to defend you. Especially you."

            "You still blame yourself for that…?" she asked faintly, recalling the Chancellor Battle yet again.

            "I blame myself for a lot of things."

            "Well stop it," she ordered gently, leaning against him and shivering at the suddenly increased cold. "You've been risking your life for me for too long."

            "I can think of worse reasons to die," he stated, draping his arm around her shivering shoulder. The faintest of smiles crossed her face, and for a while they just stared at the snowfields enjoying each other's company. The blizzard wind kicked up a bit, but it wasn't so loud that they couldn't hear each other.

            "What do you think it could have been like, if we weren't soldiers?" she asked finally.

            "What could it have been like?" he repeated, smiling slowly. "'Could have'? Giving up already, are you? And so serious all the time. But in the blink of an eye…" While he was talking he lowered his arm and clasped his hand on her belly, tickling her gently.

            "Hey!" She straightened up but he still held her firmly.

            "What?" he asked with a grin. "Where's your sense of adventure?" he asked, ticking harder. What annoyance she had was tiny to begin with, and soon enough she was actually laughing, and fighting her way out of his "attack". She managed to turn herself around, but not much else. Finally he stopped, resting his hands on her waist, and she punched him lightly on the shoulder while catching her breath, the both of them still laughing.

            "Jerk," she finally managed.

            "You know," he opined, "you really have a nice laugh. You should use it more often."

            "You're one to talk," she countered, though absorbing the suggestion. "Thanks," she added after a few seconds, hugging him. "I guess I needed that."

            "Probably we both did," he replied, embracing her tightly. "We usually do." Seconds later neither was willing to let go, though for the first time they didn't allow themselves to care about that. Something stirred inside Malevex about being so close to her. It was no new feeling, though he'd always been reluctant to approach it. After all, given the circumstances of their pasts, their emotions had developed differently than with other Reploids. He'd never known if the bond he felt with her was simple friendship, camaraderie, or something more. Nowadays he was leaning more towards the last one. The easiest word for it was love…but could Reploids love? It seemed like a foolish label to apply to something he knew nothing about.

            _Dude_, said a voice in his head. _Who the hell CARES?_

            "Whoa, dude," he thought back, "you're right!" What did correctness matter? The whole concept of love had a positive connotation to it…and after living a life full of pain, why should he deny himself happiness any longer?

            Teytha was thinking the same thing. "Listen…Malevex," she said in a whisper, though he still heard her loud and clear even through the wind. "This place…this place'll be a battleground soon, right?"

            "Probably," he admitted. "They'll be back, today or more likely later on."

            "…Don't do anything stupid…okay?"

            He laughed softly. "Teytha…the whole thing could be considered stupid…fighting against all those Hunters."

            "But you know what I mean," she whispered. "I…don't want to lose you."

            "Hey…no worries. I promise I won't go on any suicide missions," he replied, smiling and looking down at the slightly shorter Reploid. She raised her head and smiled back. Then he went on, the words flowing out of their own accord. "Just…just make sure you watch your back too, all right? I…I love you too much to give you up now, Teytha. Not when we're so close to an actual future."

            Her face flushed but her smile widened and she nearly crushed him with her hug. He tightened his embrace and because it seemed right he lowered his head and kissed her on the cheek. They maintained the embrace for a long while, both happier than they'd ever been. It was such a foreign feeling to them—warmth instead of the cold hate they'd lived with all their lives. Neither would have torn themselves from the moment for anything, even if Kitao, Virdelko, and Chartreuse themselves were lined up nearby waiting to be killed. Teytha, her head resting on Malevex's shoulder, blinked away the tears of happiness—tears she thought she'd never shed—from her eyes and a sudden laugh escaped her lips.

            "It's a fine time to realize it," she said quietly, "but this…this is all I ever really needed. Not vengeance…I didn't need that at all."

            "You're right," Malevex agreed wistfully. "What the hell was wrong with us, that we couldn't figure it out sooner?"

            "How often have we been happy?" She had to laugh a little at the strangeness of the question.

            He then had to laugh at the sad strangeness of the answer. His reunion with Gredam, Teytha's revival, and the rendezvous with Mortar came to mind, but other than those major events…no, there hadn't been any room in his life for casual joys of any sort. "Not often enough."

            She didn't break the embrace but she pulled back enough that she could look him in the eye. "It's a much better purpose than vengeance…isn't it?"

            "It is," he agreed with a smile, believing it. "It is." They looked at each other for a while, pledging themselves to this new, more appealing goal and future. Then any final reservations they had died pretty darn fast and they kissed each other, letting the action convey the emotions that words didn't do justice to.

            Afterwards, they both became aware to their brief and mutual embarrassment that the blizzard had kicked back up with a vengeance and they were both getting covered in snow.

            "Come on," Malevex said, looping his arm around her shoulder and starting back inside. "We're no good to anyone frozen."

            "Is it cold?" Teytha asked with a little grin, walking with him. "I didn't notice a thing."

____________________

            One floor up, a Reploid armored in maroon and gold watched the couple reenter the castle via a window looking out on the balcony below. A smile crept onto Mortar's wizened face, and the old Reploid turned away from the scene and started back down the hallway to his quarters. He'd been waiting for those two knuckleheads to hook up ever since he'd rejoined their posse. There'd always been a sort of father-daughter type relationship between Mortar and Teytha, even though their origins had nothing to do with each other, and the happiness obvious on her face was something he'd never seen before. It warmed his tired heart and, he decided, made this whole goddamned fiasco worthwhile.

            Uplifted by what he'd witnessed, the Maverick moved with an extra spring in his step and more energy than he usually displayed. There was also more fight in him, because no longer did he have any reservations at all about the nature of their cause…because it wasn't about revenge anymore. That was something he'd hoped the others would realize, and they finally had. Once more it was back to how it should be: ensuring the safety of their comrades, and making a future worth living in.

            So let the Hunters come, he decided as he entered his quarters, energized and ready for anything. Woe to anyone who crossed paths with Old Man Mortar.


	37. Red Winter Rising

Chapter Thirty-Six: Red Winter Rising 

            "General Kuwangner, sir, I have the report."

            Boomer Kuwangner didn't turn to face the Maverick giving him the information. Rather, the lanky beetle continued to stare out at the Maverick Hunter Headquarters from his position on the Megacity 5 Highway, about three fourths of a mile away and on much higher ground. He wondered what was going on in there. Were things going to plan? They damn well better be, the leader of Frontline thought, because he would be one upset bug if all this planning and preparation came to naught. But, that was probably what this recruit was here to yap about, so…

            "I don't have till Christmas, you know."

            "Y-yessir," the Maverick stammered. "Commander Gredam reports that _Gallagher _is on the way, and has already launched an attack on the Hunter forces at Seraph Castle." Were it any other Maverick Boss, they would have cackled at the news and inserted some fiendish remark, but the quiet Kuwangner just stood static and waited during the awkward pause. Feeling foolish, the recruit went on. "The ship should be here within ten or fifteen minutes. We just have to keep the Hunters trapped that long, and—"

            "I know what we have to do," Kuwangner said in an even lower rasp than usual. "Give me the report, not a lecture."

            "Yes…yessir," the Maverick stammered again, hating the bug but terrified of him at the same time. Boomer noted it and chuckled inwardly. He did have that effect on people. "The Hunter Headquarters is still without power. It's estimated that it'll be at least ten minutes before they can activate any kind of backup—which we still don't know for sure that they have."

            "It'll be enough time," Kuwangner observed. "Even if the power comes back on before the ship arrives, they'll be in too much a state of confusion to do anything productive. Go on."

            "When the ship moves into position, they'll fire a Buzzbomb at the Headquarters. Immediately afterwards, they'll close in and deposit their soldiers. Commander Gredam—"

            "'Commander'?" Kuwangner scoffed. "Don't give that overzealous failure any more credit than he deserves. We serve only one 'Commander'. Sigma."

            "R…right…" The Maverick took a breath and tried again. God, he hated this! "_General _Gredam will still remain onboard while Generals Gravity Beetle and Storm Eagle rendezvous their troops with our Frontline division. Gredam and Revolver plan on firing a second Buzzbomb, but they haven't said at what yet."

            "Well goddamn," Kuwangner observed. Now wasn't exactly the time to be keeping secrets from one's allies, was it? "If that asshole hits any of our men in the process, I'll pin him to some ceiling spikes with a Dead Lift before he can say 'frine laven'."

            "Yessir," the Maverick agreed, or thought he did.

            "Oh," Kuwangner blinked, as though remembering that the troop was still there. "Go on. Get back to your unit."

            "Yessir," the Maverick said one final time, and walked as briskly as possible away from the big creepy bug.

            For his part, Kuwangner let out a low laugh while still facing the hated Hunter HQ. He recalled his own days spent inside, back when he was on the side of peace and harmony…but that wasn't right, was it? No, he'd been there to kill people, and Sigma's unit had provided him with that opportunity. When Sigma revolted it only made sense for Kuwangner to follow. So long as Sigma kept providing him with things to kill, Kuwangner would follow the man anywhere, even to repeated deaths, which wasn't farfetched at all.

            "Trapped like rats," Boomer observed coldly, twitching his mandibles in a freakish grin. It was such a change, being the one in power, knowing what was to come and how terrible it would be while one's victims remained unaware and helpless. While he couldn't be entirely certain how things would end up, the Maverick Boss knew at least one thing for sure was going to happen on this newly dawning morning.

            "…I'm going to have SO much fun."

____________________

            The hacker knew what was going to happen, too, and as such he was getting very worried about the fact that a guard was standing near the door to the computer chamber. Probably some intelligent sod had pieced together the fact that whoever fudged up the Hunter computer networks had to have access to—gasp!—a computer, and posted a guard to make sure no one escaped. However the guard wasn't doing things that were…well, guardish. It was a male human of large build carrying a very nasty looking energy saber, but it wasn't activated at the moment, and he was talking with several technicians and—the hacker could not _believe _this—he seemed to be looking at the individual computers to see who was responsible, as though he had some incredible technical prowess that would allow him to discern that particular detail. Humans…what _idiots!_

            Even if the Idiot decided to search his computer, though, the hacker knew well that nothing incriminating would come up. Kujacker's program was just too good for that. Even so, it had already been what, ten or fifteen whole minutes? In ten or fifteen MORE minutes, this building might not exist anymore, and the hacker did not want to be a part of that carnage. He was to rendezvous with Boomer Kuwangner's Frontline, but how could he do that if he was trapped in here?

            The Idiot would make a fuss if anyone tried to leave…but the hacker had no choice _but _to leave. Too bad for the Idiot, the hacker decided, checking for his weapon. Reassured at its presence even though he'd always known deep down that he still had it, the hacker began to form a very quick evacuation plan. There was a hallway leading from the computer chamber to the garages, which were still open. After all, the last of Zegmann's unit had just departed. He could rush out there and teleport…and he was a fast runner, if he was nothing else.

            Satisfied with his odds, the hacker relaxed and waited. He still had time. What sense was there in rushing things?

____________________

            Krysta of Unit 5 and Ninja Xu of Zegmann's brigade had turned back from the outside teleportation point when they'd seen the lights go out in the building behind them. Now that they were inside the dark garage, it was time for them to formulate a plan of their own.

            "Look, maybe it was a computer glitch," the more experienced Xu reasoned. "Does your personal communicator still work?"

            "Yeah," Krysta replied after paging the Huntress in front of her as a test. "Guess that means we don't owe this to EMG."

            "That's not good," Xu observed. "Well we'd better get to the control room."

            "Doesn't Signas have a communicator?"

            "Sure. Pity us commoners don't have access to the frequency." Xu sighed. "Look, go check out the computer room and radio me with what's going on. Then head for the control room, all right? Move fast."

            "Got it," Krysta agreed, arming herself with her axe instinctively and sprinting in the direction of the computer room she'd just left. It was somewhat disappointing, she thought. She'd been hoping to see some action tonight.

____________________

            Scythe had similar feelings. He had spent too much time in the computer room. He knew that, and he also knew that it wasn't safe here anymore. No one else seemed to share his opinion, though. They were all bustling about, talking loudly, and trying to get the poor excuse for a guard to clear them of the crime, as though the guard knew how to check for a hacker's deeds.

            The general sentiment in the computer room was mistrust. Scythe could understand that. The way they had to figure it, whoever or whatever caused the blackout had to be in this room. No one was innocent. However, the Hunters didn't seem to act on their reservations, talking as freely as they ever had and looking at people with more curiosity than mistrust. "Was it you?" their eyes asked, and not "what was the purpose, and am I in danger?" like they should have.

            Correction. There was one person who seemed to share Scythe's outlook on the moment, and it was Nightchaser. The surly Reploid was on his feet, standing stiffly with a blank face but with eyes that were very alive. He was searching each individual face as though summing up threats, and unless Scythe was dreaming his "comrade" seemed to be glancing at the doorway an awful lot. Perhaps he felt the same sense of danger Scythe did?

            The golden Hunter felt suddenly awkward in his sitting position and joined everyone else in standing up. Everyone who had weapons—precious few, perhaps two or three—was armed with them, and no one thought twice when Scythe raised his deactivated beam scythe and hoisted it over his shoulder. He, too, glanced at the door, and then back at the crowds around him. There, he blended in now. It wouldn't do to be accused of anything, would it? The way they were now, they may lynch him without proof, and Scythe wasn't planning on dying in such a foolish way.

____________________

            Nightchaser, unlike the other Hunters in the computer room, was not holding his weapon—a beam saber—and instead leaned with his fists on the computer desk, staring at people with an expression that was part annoyance and part suspicion. There weren't that many of them, which would make a forced escape easy, he thought with a half grin. It may come to that. The atmosphere was just too thick and stifling for him. Plus, he had a gut feeling that he didn't have much time before…something happened.

            The power had gone out for a reason. These Hunters had to realize that, but the dumb fools didn't act afraid. If they had brains, they'd all be filing out the door over the guard's protests and heading to the control room for real information and orders, not waiting around in uselessness. This was why Nightchaser hated these people. There was nothing but incompetence in their ranks…he had to get away from them before it got to his mind.

            Then there was that Scythe character…a dangerous one, Chase noted. He was up and active, and he, too, looked like he wanted out. A scuffle in the doorway wouldn't be any good, Chase knew…but maybe if Scythe went first he could back him up and make that idiot guard back off. That would be great. Then he could start getting things accomplished.

____________________

            The air force hangar behind the Hunter HQ had its own independent power supply, and so it was no trouble for Alec Tremont's team to reload and refuel. It was also no problem for Tremont and one of his comrades, a Reploid pilot named Bale, to wander inside the hangar and turn on the radio link to the main HQ building.

            "It's chaos in there," Tremont reported after sending the message that they were there and able to patrol the area if necessary.

            "What are we supposed to do?" the humanoid Bale asked.

            "Once we beef up, we start a continual patrol of the area around Headquarters." Alec shivered off the remaining chill in his bones. "What about Alden Base and the Megacity Base?"

            "I can't raise either," Bale responded grimly. "I'd say we have something major going on."

            "Recon flights, too, then."

            "Yeah. I wonder what we'll find?"

            Before Alec could speculate the radio went off again. "Yeah?"

            "Tremont!"

            "Boss?" Alec and Bale said at once.

            "We've got trouble," Commander Taggart reported. "Can you get through to Signas?"

            "Roger that," Alec said as he set up the radio to connect his boss to the Big Boss. He was quite surprised when no one answered. "…The hell?"

            "'The hell'?! Whaddya mean, 'the hell'?!"

            "No one's answering?" Bale asked in disbelief.

            "Hold on!" Alec held up his hand and listened carefully. "Can you make that out?"

            "…Yeah," said a more sedate Taggart. "Jesus, sounds like a mosh pit in there. What's going on?"

            "Hell if I know," Alec responded. "It was chaos already in there…something big must have happened."

            "All right, look," Taggart said suddenly, all business now. "Keep trying to get through. Tell Signas to be advised: there is an airship approaching your position."

            Alec and Bale felt their stomachs sink at the same time. "Roger that," Tremont acknowledged quietly.

            "This ship has already devastated our ranks," Taggart went on, "but we've licked our wounds and we're coming home. Repeat, you will have reinforcements! But in the meantime, get your asses in the air and _stop that ship_!!!"

            "Yeah…yes sir!" the pilots said at once. Communication broke, and the two just stared at the radio for a good minute.

            "All right," Bale said at last. "I have this feeling that if we keep staring at the radio forever…"

            "…We'll become radioactive soot," Tremont finished. "All right, I'll go get the others mobilized. Keep trying to raise Signas or…hell, raise ANYBODY."

            "Fine, but don't even think about leaving without me."

            "Not a chance, pal," Tremont assured him, putting his gloves back on. "I have a feeling we're gonna need all the firepower we can get."

____________________

            There was simply no more time to waste. The hacker had to move, and it had to be now. He made sure his weapon was accessible and started for the door, shaking his head and making quite a show about being disgusted, bored, and annoyed. He saw several others meet his eyes and reflect similar feelings, and he almost had a little revolution going before the Idiot guard stepped up in front of the doorway.

            "No one leaves, pal," the Idiot said flatly.

            The hacker looked the human dead on and tilted his head with a roll of his eyes. "This is stupid."

            "No one leaves," the Idiot repeated, waving his still deactivated beam saber. "I have my orders."

            "Hey, we're all Hunters here!" the hacker lied. "Somethin's going on, and I ain't no good to anybody in here, so lemme go to the control room and get some REAL orders!" It would be so much easier if he didn't have to fight, the hacker knew. Maybe he could talk his way out of this.

            The Idiot narrowed his eyes. "Lemme see your computer."

            The hacker blinked. "Oh come on. Just because I—"

            "You got something to hide?" the Idiot said loudly.

            Immediately the hacker knew he'd made a mistake. The other people in the room—there really wasn't more than six or seven—were now looking at him with increased suspicion. He should have let the Idiot look at his computer…what would he find, after all, but nothing at all?

            Before anything else could happen there came the sounds of shouting in the hallways…panicked shouting. Everyone now looked around with a new sense of confusion and nervousness, and more than one voiced the question "What's going on?"

            "Let's find out!" the hacker said, seizing control of the situation and moving for the door.

            It was at this point that the Idiot destroyed all hope for a peaceful escape. He shoved the hacker back, succeeding only because the Maverick wasn't expecting the move. The human then ignited his saber and pointed it at his new adversary.

            "The hell do you want out there?"

            And that did it. The sight of a live weapon pointed at someone gave people a target, and these frantic Hunters were keen to take it. When the hacker heard the sound of another beam saber activating, he knew it was time for some drastic action. He wasn't worried in the least. The saboteur shook his head at the human guard and stepped back with raised hands as though he were backing off, using the gesture to lift his weapon with supposed casualness…

            …And then a sharp laugh escaped the hacker's lips and a bright flash of light turned the lives of the computer room Hunters upside down.

____________________

            Krysta had her axe ready, but she had no expectations of using it. In her mind, she was to pop in the room and pop out, not really sure what she was looking for but knowing she had to check anyway.

            She was about ten feet away from the computer room door when the incident began and it stopped her in her tracks. The sound of energy weapons was barely audible through the walls, but more audible was a loud laugh that could really have belonged to anyone. Then there came shouts of fear and the sound of energy weapons returned. Mild explosions rocked the room and the sounds of shredding metal were audible.

            Krysta's first conscious action, when conscious thought returned, was to page Xu.

            "What's up?"

            "Get someone down here!" the Huntress whispered sharply and frantically.

            "What's going on…?"

            "Just get down here! There's a battle or something in the computer room!"

            "Jesus…Krysta, are you all right? Are you…?"

            But she wasn't listening anymore. She stared hard at the still-closed door, and thought she could make out a little human blood coming through the cracks between the door bottom and the floor. Her synthetic heart began to beat more rapidly and, just doing and not really thinking, she pressed herself against the wall near the door and held her axe at the ready. She wasn't about to go in there herself, but she'd let the assholes come out to face her. Later the rookie Huntress would realize that this was what the more experienced fighters called "letting the training take over".

            While she did this she became aware of other sounds—energy blades that were actually colliding. The battle was brief, and marked by grunts and finally by a pained cry and the sound of someone heavy clanking to the ground…a Reploid was down. Probably a lot of them were, Krysta thought, and at least one human. What was going on?

            Someone was going to the door, and it sounded like they were limping. Krysta held her breath and tightened her grip on her axe. The door opened and a wounded Reploid stepped out…

            It was Scythe. The Reploid's gold armor was marred with much blood, which Krysta assumed originated from the deep gash in his chest. It was a beam saber wound…it could be nothing else. Her friend's ignited energy scythe dragged on the floor behind him as he turned his head and met her gaze. His eyes widened in recognition and he staggered towards her. "Krysta…"

            She let out her breath immediately, rushing to help him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and supported him as they moved away from the door, into what Krysta imagined was safety. "What happened?"

            Scythe shook his head. "It's over." He pushed away from her and leaned against the wall, apparently preferring to support himself. "Jesus, it's horrible in there…"

            "What happened?" Krysta asked again, her voice full of worry. "Who did this to you?"

            Scythe's eyes were wide yet weary. "I don't rightly know…one minute he was trying to get out of the room, and the other…" He shook his head again and coughed up a bit of blood. "But I got him." He grinned weakly and brushed at the saber wound in his chest. It wasn't all that deep, but it appeared to have done a number on him. "He won't be bothering us anymore."

            "Who?" Krysta asked again. "Was it the same person who shut off the power?"

            Before Scythe could answer his eyes went wide again with something other than shock. Krysta recognized it as…fear, and spun sharply away from him to behold…

            …Nightchaser, standing in the open doorway, every bit as bloody as Scythe and with his own fair share of energy weapon wounds. His saber was out and activated, and his face had somewhat of a crazed look. He also seemed very interested in the two Reploids in front of him.

            "You!" Krysta seethed, stepping forward and starting to lift her axe and glaring at him in a very accusatory manner. "How could you?!"

            Nightchaser didn't respond. Instead his eyes came to life with fear like what Krysta had seen in Scythe, only this fear was different—it wasn't for personal safety. He was worried about someone else.

            Krysta found out who that person was when a blinding, burning pain erupted throughout her right side. By some miracle she had her weight on her left leg and fell that way, and so the weapon didn't pass all the way through her. She fell hard, bleeding and in agony, and her axe clattered to the ground next to her. Curiosity overcame the shock, however, and she turned her head around with eyes full of disbelief.

            A laugh escaped Scythe's lips that was identical to the one he'd uttered in the computer room before killing the Idiot human and launching into a lightning fast attack on the remaining occupants. Only Nightchaser had given him a problem, but he'd been sure he'd eliminated him in the room. Time to remedy that. Immediately after felling Krysta he continued forward and swung his scythe at Nightchaser, but the bigger Reploid somehow managed to parry the attack with his own blade.

            "Damn you!" Nightchaser bellowed as he regained his balance, looking down at Krysta and then back up at Scythe. "I knew there was a reason I hated you!"

            "It's cause I spilled hot coffee all over you that one time," Scythe hissed. "But I'll give you a better reason."

            Chase found himself confronted with a madman, and while wounded enough that his own senses weren't functioning perfectly he still knew it would be a very good idea to take this fight away from the Huntress that lay bleeding on the floor in front of them. He leapt backward away from her, praying that the Maverick hacker would take the bait…

            He did. Scythe sprang over Krysta's body and raced after his prey, swinging his weapon out in front of him. The nature of the scythe gave it a broad range, and even as far back as he was Chase had to work hard to make sure he didn't get sliced in two. Chase brought his saber up and slashed at the scythe just as it passed him to mess up Scythe's balance, and then stepped forward to close the gap between them, bringing his fist forward as he did so. Scythe took it full in the face. His head snapped back and he crumpled, but he sprang forward into Chase's lower body, throwing the Hunter's own balance off. Chase used the backwards momentum to carry him far enough away from his enemy, and then regained his balance. He again closed the gap, swinging his saber out for the kill. Scythe, however, had also regrouped and had his weapon swinging to meet Chase's. The two bodies of energy flared as they connected, and the two combatants leaned hard into each other, hoping to be the one to break the stalemate. However, since they were both weakened by their wounds neither could establish dominance, and they mutually backed off to prepare for another strike.

            "You never saw it coming," Scythe boasted in his new, sadistic tone. He was nothing like the quiet, reserved Hunter Chase had known thus far. The Maverick Scythe had cruel, sharp eyes that seemed to delight in murder and an almost musical voice that conveyed loathing and mocking superiority. "I played every last one of you for fools." Chase answered by closing again and swinging his saber in a variety of nimble slashes that Scythe was only barely able to counter. The gold Reploid lashed out with his boot, catching Chase in the gut, where he'd been wounded earlier. Chase doubled over and a hiss of pain escaped his lips, and Scythe lashed out again, kicking him in the chin. Nightchaser staggered backwards, but though disoriented he remembered to bring his saber up to counter the coming scythe slice. This time he managed to seriously upset Scythe's balance, but he didn't realize it and instead chose the moment to reestablish equilibrium.

            "You're a fool," Scythe taunted, getting his bearings back and wincing from the pain of his chest wound. "You're going to die here, whether I kill you or not. You'll all burn in Red Winter…yes, that's the REAL Red Climate." He laughed a bit maniacally as he charged in for another attack. Everything was going his way. No way would it change now! "I'd much rather kill you myself, though."

            "Then why waste time talking?" Chase finally said, standing tall and snapping to a battle stance. "Let's just FIGHT!" And at that he sprang forward at the Maverick, hacking away with artful swings and cuts. Scythe blocked or parried them, but his weapon was heavier, and so while he could block he could not find the time to launch a strike of his own. The end result was that he was pushed slowly backward towards the computer lab they'd just left from, though he was holding his ground quite nicely.

            The turning point came when one of Chase's cuts broke past the scythe and hit its owner in the shoulder, cleaving down into the torso. It wasn't deep enough to kill, but Scythe recoiled back with a howl. Then bad luck interfered for Chase as a jet stream of coolant erupted from the Maverick's shoulder wound and traveled directly into his optics. Uttering a sharp cry, Chase furiously rubbed at his face to try and restore vision, but he would be too late. Scythe did not take time to recover from his injury, and instead surged forward and felled Nightchaser with a scythe slash that traveled clear down his chest and merged with the stomach wound. Chase crumpled on the floor with an even greater cry and pressed his hands against the furiously burning wound, trying to stem the loss of fluids while slowly raising his head to face his opponent.

            Scythe was grinning like a kid at Christmas. He'd won and he knew it. Now it was just a short dash out of the garages—he could handle that, couldn't he? Yeah, then he could link with Frontline and meet with a medic. He'd done his job. Now it was time to escape. First, though, he figured he owed this jackass a final parting gift.

            "Pathetic way to die," Scythe said, spitting at the Reploid before him. "How does it feel, to know your entire organization is gonna come apart today, and you missed your chance to take out the man who caused it all?"

            "What are you bullshitting about…?" Chase managed, spitting a mouthful of blood out. He was leaning on his saber for support now, but the wound wasn't all _that _bad. He could hold out, he thought, and maybe even muster enough energy for one last defiant strike that _might _take Scythe down with him. That was, if he could keep the son of a bitch talking.

            "Lemme tell you something, Hunter," Scythe lectured, hissing the last word. "I input the virus to destroy your power networks. I dunno when your brain trust will find a backup supply, but by the time they do it'll be too late. There's an airship coming this way with nukes…yeah, nuclear weapons! Your base is first on the target list." He laughed at Chase's reaction to that one. "See? You die, one way or another. And you know what the best part was?" He raised his menacing weapon high, and delivered the final verbal blow that preceded the final physical blow. "They all thought it was _you_."

            Chase's eyes blazed and he lunged forward—but no, he didn't…he couldn't. His right leg gave out, and he tumbled to the floor, helpless. Scythe let out a triumphant cry and brought the weapon down.

            …But not before the axe bit through both of his legs, chopping off the lower halves and letting the rest of his body fall onto the bloody stumps.

            Scythe's balance was shot to hell and the weight of the scythe plus the new situation made it too awkward to complete the attack. He actually wound up dropping his weapon blade-up into the floor, and the forward momentum plus his sudden lack of legs carried him face-first onto the same floor, impaling himself on his own weapon. Seconds later, the shock wore off and his ear splitting screech resonated throughout the halls of Maverick Hunter Headquarters. It was the last noise he ever made.

            Chase, dazed, pulled himself to his feet in a great exertion of effort and glanced down to behold Krysta, half kneeling and half laying on the floor, her axe blade bloodied and clutched in her now limp right hand. She supported herself on her left arm, and she slowly took her head up away from the sight of Scythe's bloody corpse to Nightchaser's stunned face.

            The Hunter put aside his own wounds and deactivated his weapon. He stepped over the dead Maverick and knelt down beside the Huntress. He helped her sit up against a wall and examined the wound to her side. It was bad, he noted, but probably not immediately lethal. Her body had shut off blood flow to the wounded area, must as his own had, but they both still needed fast medical attention.

            "That was great," Nightchaser finally said. "I didn't even see you moving up behind him."

            "I couldn't let him get away with it," she explained weakly. "He'd have killed me too, afterwards…" She looked up at him. "I'm…sorry."

            He sighed. "Don't even start with…"

            "No," she asserted. "What he said…he was right, I did think…and without any proof…"

            "I'm a certified asshole and I'll be the first to admit it," Nightchaser said, somewhat blandly. "I'd have suspected me too."

            She shook her head but didn't say any more. Seconds later footsteps were heard, and by the blessing of some god they belonged to Xu and some reinforcements, one of which included a medic.

            "Jesus _CHRIST!_" Xu exclaimed, looking at the sight. "Krysta, what HAPPENED?"

            "Scythe," both wounded Hunters explained at once, though vaguely.

            Xu, who had never met Scythe, looked at the maimed body on the ground and raised an eyebrow. She got a nod from another Hunter, who happened to have participated in the Weapons Match Scythe had won almost a month earlier.

            "I'll be damned," the Hunter observed. "That was the traitor? I never woulda guessed it."

            "No one really knew him," Krysta said, her voice weakening. "But some of us thought we did."

            "This is horrible," the human medic said, coming out of the computer room. "We've got six casualties in there, two humans and four Reploids. Add the two wounded out here, and my God…" He wiped some sweat off his brow. "I'll handle them for now. Someone run to Tiberius and get all the help we have. We gotta get them to the medical bay."

            "I'll go to Signas and Cain," Xu stated. "They need to know about this."

            "Wait!" Nightchaser coughed, getting Xu's attention. "Look, Scythe said something about an airship heading this way."

            "An airship?" Xu said. "Why in the world would an airship be coming here?"

            "He talked about nukes," Nightchaser added. These Hunters hadn't been briefed on the nuclear threat, and the thought of it…well, it was chilling because it made sense, especially given the blackout.

            "Shit," Xu observed.

            "Go," the medic ordered, and the ninja Huntress dashed off with two others in her wake. Another rushed down to the medical bay.

            "I'm sorry," Krysta repeated, feeling like a royal ass. She'd near loathed this man, she'd even accused him of treason based on one other person's word, and then he'd wound up saving her life. It didn't get much more humiliating than that.

            "Shut up," Chase replied, though he delivered it weakly and without any real malice, breaking the subject up while still accepting the apology in his own odd way.

            "Both of you shut up," the medic ordered, observing their wounds. "Jesus, these are gonna leave marks."

            And with that pleasant thought, one brand of chaos died inside Hunter HQ.

____________________

            A new chaos was promptly birthed in its place, however.

            Dr. Cain had been in some frantic scenarios before, but those had taken place many wrinkles and creaky bones ago, and the current situation wasn't one he considered healthy for his physical and/or mental conditions. Tired of being lost in all the hullabaloo of confused voices, the Hunter executive sought out Intel Chief Caligula, whom he figured would probably know the most about the situation.

            "Tell me what's happening," Cain ordered when he'd taken the Reploid aside. "Sum it up, slowly."

            "All right," Caligula responded, taking a deep breath. "Starting with the obvious, the power is out and we're not sure why. We actually are in the process of accessing our reserve generator, so this little setback should be taken care of soon enough. In the meantime, however, we've lost all contact with our troops in the field, and we have no idea what is happening in the city around us."

            "Swell," the tired, haggard former geologist replied as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "Go on."

            "The last bit, too, might change, because some of the Ravens have touched down and contacted us using the hangar radio. They're going to start patrolling the city, and they'll tell us what they see via that same radio." Tragically, Caligula did not point out the radio in question, or he'd have realized that no one was manning the station at the moment to receive Commander Taggart's urgent warning. "Also, judging on speculative reports made shortly before the power died, Alden Base and the Megacity 5 Army Headquarters aren't operational."

            And that was what really scared Cain. Someone had systematically immobilized the three main military branches in the city, and there had to be a reason behind that. He looked Caligula hard in the eye and spoke his greatest fears. "You think they're coming here?"

            "I'd say it's a possibility, sir," the Invisible Man agreed with a solemn nod. "I'd check with Signas first if I were you, but my personal assessment is that we should be ready to evacuate this base quickly. If they get a delivery system for their Buzzbombs close enough, well…"

            "Right," Cain said, paling. Everything had fallen apart rather quickly for them. The doctor had been up all night, which partially explained his grogginess, but all of a sudden he felt a lot more weighted down. At least the Hunters weren't panicking yet, he consoled himself.

            At that precise moment Scythe's death cry reached them even in the control room, and the panicking began. A group of Hunters dashed out to investigate, and shortly after Xu and several others entered the control room.

            "Commander Signas, Dr. Cain," Xu said breathlessly before realizing that she was addressing the most senior members of her organization, which didn't help her composure any. "I need to speak to you."

            "Good Lord, what now?" Signas asked upon joining them.

            "There was a battle at the computer chamber," Xu began without fanfare. "One of our technicians was a Maverick. The whole place is a mess…they count six dead and two wounded."

            "Christ, from one Maverick?!" Signas was incredulous.

            "I guess it was a surprise attack," Xu offered weakly. "I wasn't there, but one of my squad mates was. She and another Hunter managed to defeat the Maverick before he escaped, but they both took serious wounds."

            "That Maverick will be the one responsible for the power outage," Caligula decided on the spot. "Damn."

            "There was something else," Xu went on, blinking at her superiors. "One of the Hunters said that the Maverick was talking about…"

            "NUKES?" four voices barked at once from behind the executives. Each and every Hunter heard it.

            "Shit!" Caligula fairly seethed, pushing past his peers and staring towards the other Hunters. "Shit, shit, shit, _shit_!"

            "An AIRSHIP?" one Hunter was shouting.

            "We gotta get out of here!" more than one exclaimed.

            It turned out that the Hunters who'd came in with Xu had been less tight lipped about Scythe's threats. A lot of the "grunt" Hunters hadn't been briefed on the nuclear threat, the reasoning being to prevent widespread panic, which was precisely what was taking place now. Caligula's first impulse was to drive his fist through the face of whomever had leaked the information, but instead he let loose orders for quiet in a booming voice that was rather uncharacteristic for him.

            Signas recovered shortly after the Intel Chief, and after Xu filled him in on the remainder of the details his first thought was to help Caligula reestablish control, but something compelled him to look to Cain first.

            "Good God," Cain was repeating to himself, a hand over his heart and his breath coming hard. "They _are _coming…what the hell are we going to do? Where do we run when all three of our strongholds are taken out?"

            "Doctor," Signas said sharply, cutting the elderly scientist off. "Get a hold of yourself. Look at me…breathe!" He blinked. "Cain, are you alright?"

            Cain just stared for five or so seconds and then slumped forward, using his cane for support for a little while and then crumpling to the ground.

            "Cain!" Signas was more than a little taken aback, but fortunately Xu reacted faster, kneeling down and supporting the old man.

            "I think it's a heart attack," the ninja opined after checking his pulse.

            By some miracle Signas didn't have to look far before he found a medic, as one walked in right at that moment to report that the wounded Hunters were safely in Tiberius's medical ward. The medic, a human named Dr. Ledyard and one of Tiberius's most skilled surgeons, quickly assembled a group to help him safely transport Cain out of the frantic war room.

            It had all happened too fast. Signas found himself standing alone among a crowd of suddenly terrified Hunters. About the only thing coming out of their mouths was talk of evacuation. Caligula and some of the more level headed Hunters were urging them to calm down and listen to what Signas had to say on the matter, but…Signas wasn't saying anything. The general had been preparing for a gradual assumption of power, but now it had all been forced on him at once and he wasn't quite sure what to do first. He'd always been able to confer with Cain, or X or Zero. But Cain was out of the picture now, and X and Zero were miles away. He was all that was left. Somehow that thought did it for Signas, and things became clearer. There could be no more deference for him. He was in full command of the Maverick Hunters now, and he would be forever afterwards though he didn't know it at the time. It was up to him—not Caligula or anyone else—to restore the order here. And so, the youthful yet competent Grand Commander Signas finally took control of the situation with a sudden bark of "Hunters, AT ATTENTION!"

            Every Maverick Hunter in the room had been a part of a unit at one time or another, and they all recognized that command and tone of voice as one that meant business. They straightened and silenced, and Signas started striding around them with full military precision. Not a one of them had seen the usually reserved and mild mannered general like this before, and most were awestruck at his sudden confidence.

            "The situation," Signas began in a voice that was not overly loud but spoke volumes of authority, "is as follows. We are without power. I am informed that that will change shortly. There has also apparently been a battle of some sorts inside our home base. We have taken casualties, but the enemy has been neutralized." He inhaled, deciding to just go ahead and tell them everything. "Prior to the power outage we did receive distress signals from Alden Base and the Megacity Army Base. You know that. This means we're effectively alone this morning. Also, yes, the Mavericks have managed to acquire Self Contained Ballistic Missiles, more commonly labeled 'Buzzbombs'. These are minor warheads with the capability of destroying an area of about a block in radius, or maybe even less…but certainly not more. We have a report, yes, that an airship is headed towards this base to deliver one of those missiles, but that report came from the mouth of a vengeful Maverick and may be intended just to stir up a panic. Nevertheless," he added, noting their worried expressions, "I want those of you who are currently undetained to prepare our manual defenses in case something is coming our way. If this is the case, take heart in the fact that we DO have several Raven jets fully loaded and ready for takeoff that will soon be patrolling the city and defending this base." That reassured them, he saw.

            Caligula found himself gaining a newfound respect for the young general, but didn't get to hear out the remainder of the speech before someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Alia.

            "Caligula, sir, I need to see you for a minute." They disengaged from the rest of the Hunters and found a more secluded corner of the room, where they could not be overheard. "Kevin Seitz contacted me on my module using one of the radios in the storage chamber. It seems Unit 8 was trying to contact us from the field."

            "Unit 8?" And that caught his interest. "What's their situation?"

            "Seitz talked to Castle, who's acting in Damia's place as the commander. According to Castle, the Hunter troops massed on the plateau in front of Seraph Castle. Unit 8 joined them after destroying the radar bases where Damia was wounded. Shortly afterwards, an airship approached them and opened fire, killing many and ruining a lot of our heavy artillery."

            "So there is an airship," Caligula breathed.

            "It gets worse. The airship hit the whole plateau with an electromagnetic pulse before it left, leaving our pals unable to communicate or teleport from that spot…which they couldn't have done anyway, given the situation here. X sent Unit 8 to find a spot where they could contact us and warn us—the airship is coming this way, and they have reason to believe the Buzzbombs are onboard."

            "Shit," Caligula said again. "Is there any good news?"

            "Well, Unit 8 did meet up with the Investigators." Alia shrugged. "I didn't get much about them from Kevin, but I guess they accomplished their mission in UNDINE. They found a secret entrance to Seraph Castle, too, but that isn't important now."

            "I agree. Are they coming home?"

            "They turned around right after the airship passed," Alia affirmed. "I just don't know what's happened since then."

            "We need to get those Ravens back into the air," Caligula realized, and then glanced at the vacant communication module. "Jesus, who left that unmanned?"

            "I'll get it," the annoyed Huntress volunteered, rushing over to it as Signas was giving people individual orders. As fate would have it she sat down at the same time Bale tried her again from the hangar. She waved to Caligula to come over, and Signas saw the gesture and joined them this time.

            "This is Bale of the Air Unit," the Hunter on the other end spoke. "I have an urgent message from Commander Taggart."

            "Go on," Signas said. Bale recognized the voice and paused for a moment before continuing.

            "Taggart says that there is an airship heading to your position, and the remaining Ravens are speeding home. They think they can beat the airship here, but Taggart had us mobilize to get up into the air to help take the airship down. Also, the Hunter army has regrouped and is rushing home as we speak. We will have reinforcements soon."

            "That's a relief," Signas said with a reassured nod. "Do we know any more about this airship? How much time do we have?"

            "I don't know, Taggart left it at that. However I have a report from one of our pilots already in the air. Sir, it looks like there is an entire legion of Mavericks surrounding our position."

            Alia, Signas, and Caligula all felt their hopes die at once. "Elaborate, pilot," Signas said finally.

            "One…no, now two pilots have confirmed that there is a Maverick detail of soldiers, ride armors, and some heavy artillery that has been spread out around our base." Bale paused before offering his personal analysis. "Sir, I think they're trying to box us in."

            "It makes sense," Caligula breathed. "They're trapping us like rats…they're waiting for us to try and evacuate."

            Signas said nothing. He stared at the module for a full thirty seconds, as though it would provide him with some answers. He could probably boast the most advanced CPU of any Reploid in existence, but in the end this didn't require much thinking. "Thank you, Bale. Listen, I need you to stay in that hangar, all right? Revise that, you can prep your jet for combat and for fast takeoff if necessary, but I need someone at that hangar in case I need to convey orders to the pilots. Can you do that?"

            "Of course, boss," Bale replied, wishing he could fly but understanding the importance of his position. "I'll call if anything new comes up. By the way, we also have radar in the hangar. I'm setting it up to monitor the area around the HQ…if all goes well I should be able to confirm the locations of any hostile units."

            "Thank you," Signas said, closing the connection. "All right. So they planned well. It's just a race now."

            "And what happens if we lose?" Caligula asked pointedly.

            "Let's not worry about that now," Signas replied just as pointedly, meaning he had an answer but just didn't want to bring it up. "Alia, man this station. If Bale calls, find me immediately. Cal, you were telling me about…?"

            "Yeah, my second, Seitz, got in touch with Unit 8. Everything that pilot said is true, and the UNDINE site is also secured. The Investigators also found a secret entrance into Seraph Castle, for future reference."

            "Roger that," Signas breathed. "Well at least they're coming back. All right, Cal, I need you to keep busy. Cain is hurting, Tiberius is occupied and I have no idea where Douglas is, so you're the only real staff I've got now."

            "No worries, boss," the spook assured him. "I'll manage things here. You need to get moving around the base. First objective should be getting the power back on. Second objective should be making sure we can defend ourselves."

            Signas nodded and they spread out to accomplish their tasks. The problem of the power was to be solved by activating a reserve generator in the depths of the base. The problem with this was that it was ancient, and was rather bothersome to start. That was probably where Chief Mechanic Douglas was, and Signas decided to make that his first stop.

            He didn't get far, however, before Caligula paged him on their internal radio.

            "Commander," Caligula said, rather tensely. "We've got a situation."

            Signas was back in the control room in a flash, and Caligula called him over to Alia's module. Bale had called again.

            "They've spotted it," Caligula said as soon as he arrived.

            "You mean the airship?"

            Caligula nodded severely, and Signas spoke forcefully into the radio. "Bale! What's going on?"

            "Three of our Ravens have confirmed the spotting of a large airship resembling _Death Rogumer_ from the first war. It's coming in from the direction of Seraph Castle. Sir, it's closing in."

            "Dammit!" Signas said, briefly losing his cool but regaining it just as quickly. "What about the reinforcements?"

            "There's been no sign of Taggart's birds or the ground army," Bale reported dourly.

            "How long before the Mavericks have a shooting solution?" It was Caligula this time.

            "Not long," the pilot replied. "I can't give you the exact time, because I don't know how advanced their targeting system is, but…well, sirs, if we can see them, they sure as hell can see us."

            "What's the situation around the HQ?" Evacuation was now the hot topic on Signas's mind.

            "All Ravens confirm a Maverick army spread out around our borders, each three blocks away from the HQ. However, we have pinpointed the 'weakest link' of sorts…it's a thinly stretched group of troops on the Northeast 50th highway junction."

            "Massing our forces and pushing through that weak link is our only real evacuation strategy," Caligula suggested.

            "Are you sure?" Alia spoke up, surprising herself. "I mean…they're gonna come down on us when they see us running."

            "We don't have a choice," Signas pointed out. "We can take our chances fighting, or be assured of death in here." It would be so much better, Signas thought, if four Hunters including Dr. Cain weren't stuck in the medical ward, but there was nothing he could do about that. "Put out the order to evacuate. Gather at the north gate as soon as possible. Bring weapons, but only if they're currently handy."

            "Yes sir," Caligula acknowledged…just as the lights came back on.

            "Bloody HELL!" the royally annoyed Signas shouted. Then he blinked and rushed for the main public announcement module. "Attention Maverick Hunters," the general said, his voice resonating all throughout the base. "ALL UNITS, report to the north gate immediately. Repeat, every Hunter in the building is to report to the north gate. Bring your weapon if you can get to it. We will be pushing through a Maverick frontline northeast of our position. Also, someone help the medical ward evacuate its patients, but be fast. We will not wait any more than five minutes before setting off. MOVE!"

            That done, the leader of the Maverick Hunters faced his subordinate Caligula grimly. "When was the last time we had to evacuate our headquarters?"

            "Don't think about it," the officer said. "You're doing the right thing. There's no other option. Now, like you said…let's move."


	38. Siege of Seraph Castle

Chapter 37: Siege of Seraph Castle 

            Zero had been in interesting positions before, but this had to take the cake. The world was going to hell outside of his confines, but he could see nothing of it, much less act to change it. So, he was stuck sitting in this cage unable to sleep due to his frustration. This left him with one thing: his thoughts.

            The crimson prodigy wished things were as simple as they'd been in years past. When he'd first started out, he was nothing more than a thrill seeker. He fought because he wanted to, savoring the excitement of action and not really thinking about the killing aspect. Several things, Mea's death included, led to a gradual change in his attitude. Probably most of the change came from being assigned full command of the Maverick Hunters, which more or less required him to curb his cowboy tendencies. However, even then once he got into combat he could rip and tear through his opponents without a second thought. He saw it as defending his principles. He supposed that was a youth thing.

            Ever since his revival, though, things had been different. It wasn't that he was afraid to die, nor was he afraid to kill if he had to. The difference was that he didn't enjoy it anymore. Fighting itself was still a blast, he'd admit, but taking lives was becoming less and less appealing. Then came the Repliforce War, and with it went all the love Zero had ever had for battlefields. The battlefield had cost him almost everything…Colonel and Iris had been like a part of himself, and while he still had X and the comrades in his own unit, his Repliforce friends could never be replaced. And he'd killed them. He'd killed both of them with his own hands, totally without Sigma's influence, in full control of himself. He was probably being too hard on himself—after all, in both situations he'd been taken by the innate rage Wily had cursed him with.

            But this situation was different from all the others. With the exception of Repliforce, Zero had always carried a grudge against his opponents, and hated them and all they stood for. It was easy to justify killing Sigma, Vile, Serges, Agile and Violen, and wounding Doppler, because Zero had hated them for their deeds, which had been judged as morally unacceptable. But when fighting the Repliforce, Zero hadn't wanted to kill his opponents. Oh, sure, it wasn't as hard to kill the Repliforce officers like Web Spider and Slash Beast. Zero didn't know them that well, and assumed their overall mission would justify his killing them. He hadn't particularly enjoyed it, but it wasn't worthy of a mental battle. Colonel, however, had torn his emotions apart in battle. More than once Zero had frozen during that fight, unwilling to continue, and Colonel had moved in for the kill. It was a dangerous thing, not hating your enemy, because it brought hesitation, and those who hesitated were indeed lost.

            That was why Zero was so worried about the present situation. Inside his head a war was going on between his better judgment and his conscience. If he ever escaped this cage, he knew, he would eventually be forced to fight the Terrornova assassins. His better judgment screamed that there was really no debate. Malevex, Teytha, Mortar, and Gredam were nuclear terrorists, and you couldn't get much worse than that. They planned to activate nuclear weapons, and therefore they deserved to die. Zero tried it again with different words. They planned to seek redress for horrific grievances, and therefore deserved to die. There seemed to be a conflict.

            The major reason Zero was even having this argument with himself was because he quite simply no longer hated the Mavericks. Even the regular foot soldiers and squad leaders were not objects for hate anymore. Zero had learned just how evil humans could be, and consequently he'd learned the reason Sigma rebelled all those years ago. Sigma hadn't been necessarily evil back then. He'd just been a revolutionist seeking equality in the way he thought would work best for his people. Afterwards he'd become a slave to the Virus, a demon who cared only for carnage, which made him very evil now despite anything he might have been in the past.

            But were the assassins evil? They were specifically targeting the Maverick Hunter Headquarters with weapons that carried a tiny blast radius, which seemed to hint that they were trying to _avoid _collateral damage. A truly evil group would have tried to maximize the destruction. The assassins were also fiercely devoted to each other, from what Zero could see, and a truly evil person had no real loyalties but to themselves. And could their past deeds be considered evil, either? Malevex had killed Mea, Zero's friend—under the orders of Chartreuse and Major Komanov. Three of them had attacked at the quarry, killing Sol and Katana, two members of Zero's unit—as part of a plot devised by Sigma to conveniently swap bodies.

            Fine, they weren't evil, said Logic. What difference did it make? They were his enemies, and they planned to kill all his friends in one fell swoop, and it was their own choice this time, not Komanov's or Sigma's. They were Mavericks, and he was a Hunter, and it was his _job and his duty_ to destroy them.

            But at what cost, asked Conscience. The last time he'd had this debate with himself he'd returned from battle devastated and unable to sleep at night because of what he'd done. Zero found himself to be deathly afraid of the same thing happening again, especially since he'd finally been starting to recover. The truth was, he really didn't hate any of them. He'd hated Malevex at the outset, but as he'd learned the truth his hate had been placed on other parties…and he didn't even really hate Chartreuse, Virdelko, and Kitao so much as he was disappointed and disgusted with them. He didn't hate anyone. And if he didn't hate them, how was he supposed to kill them and justify it? Sure it might be technically right, but if Zero killed them would justice _really _be served? It would be like telling Chartreuse and the others "I don't like what you did, but I'll help you cover it up because those people were more evil than you are." Which, Zero decided flatly, could not be true. He'd seen a violent temper and a willingness to kill in both Malevex and Teytha, and a quiet fire burning in Mortar, but in none of them had he detected the outright malice he'd seen time and time again in people like Vile and Sigma. They were fighting for each other…

            …And wasn't that why Iris had fought? For Colonel?

            Zero let out a sigh and leaned his head back against the cold steel wall. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't just walk away from these people, could they? Like it or not, they were terrorists, and might pull this shit again someday if they were set free. But could he destroy them?

            Probably, he decided grudgingly. Physically it was possible, for sure. Zero had much more battle experience under his belt, and even though these Mavericks were for once as old as he was they were still accustomed to fighting from the shadows. If he could create a duel situation, he should be able to defeat them. He also supposed he could survive, mentally, if he had to.

            If he had to. The words resonated through Zero's mind. Would he have to? Hell, would they ambush and kill him before he even had a chance? He had a feeling Malevex or Teytha wouldn't ever have this conversation with themselves. They'd just strike Zero down if the moment came and not bat an eye. Malevex himself had said that he'd wanted to kill Zero outright rather than capture him and give him the chance to ravage the base from the inside. But that had been, again, with his comrades in consideration and without any actual hate for the crimson captive. He wondered if Malevex hated him? He was the instrument of the humans, after all. Would that hate allow those assassins an edge in battle?

            Foolish thoughts, said Logic and Conscience at the same time, because until Zero got out of this blasted room he could do nothing. The steel bars in front of him still sparked with electricity, and Zero wasn't about to try to rip them apart. It was impossible for a Reploid to grab them long enough to bend them without sustaining enough electrical damage to overload their circuits, and he knew it. He was trapped until someone let him out.

            And when that time came, he really hoped the person would be letting him free and not leading him to his execution.

____________________

            Bit hadn't been paying attention to the monitor for a while, having been preoccupied with _Gallagher_'s launch and monitoring other base security measures. Also, the technician that was supposed to have been monitoring all the screens in that corner had for a long time been cleaning his firearm. Perhaps the most important factor was that Cyber Peacock had told the security team to expect "blinks" in the power system, and so when the technician first glanced at the UNDINE monitor and saw static, he imagined that it had something to do with the power. After all, _Gallagher _had launched from that room and lots of power had been used up. Plus, the room wasn't all that important now that the airship was gone, and thus no warning bells went off in the technician's head.

            Now, after all this time when he checked it again, things were different.

            "Sir," the technician said, calling Bit from the other end of the large control room at the central core in upper Seraph Castle. "I think I might have something here."

            The slight golden Maverick was there in a heartbeat. "What's the problem?" The technician pointed to the static on the UNDINE monitor. "When did this come up?"

            "Just a minute ago," the techie lied, covering his ass. "I thought it was a power hiccup, but it's not coming back."

            Bit frowned behind his facemask and input a few commands. He frowned deeper when there was no result. "Diavus," he said loudly to the chief technician. "Get Malevex in here."

            The acting commander was already in the general area and arrived within the minute with Teytha right behind him, moving to where Diavus and Bit were now hovering. "What's happening?"

            "Maybe something interesting," Bit said in a monotone. "The cameras in Revolver's garage are shot to hell. We originally took it for one of those power hiccups Peacock was talking about, but it's been a bit long for that."

            "Analysis?" Malevex asked next.

            The golden security chief nodded. "It would be a nice place to invade. We'd like to hope the chief tech, Billo, closed the garage doors leading to the surface, which we have no reason not to believe. Still, the cameras are out, and…" Bit shrugged. "Just a bad feeling, sir."

            "There's that hall leading from the garage to the base interior," Teytha pointed out.

            "Yeah," Malevex decided quickly. "Why take chances? Bit, have a look. We'll keep tabs here."

            "Let me page Byte," Bit responded. "Then I'll put a team together and take a look. It's probably nothing," he added. "The Hunters all turned back when _Gallagher _attacked."

            "Nevertheless," Malevex said with finality. Bit nodded again and left to find his brother.

            "What do you think?" Diavus asked after Bit had left. "We got trouble?"

            "We're about to find out," his boss replied in a voice that betrayed no emotion. It didn't serve to put Diavus at ease.

____________________

            "EUREKA!" Delates shouted, beholding at last the chasm that led to Revolver's garage.

            "Pipe down!" X snapped, trudging over one last damned snow hill. The blizzard was kicking up again, much to their discomfort, and while X would be glad to get out of the elements he didn't want to go alerting the Mavericks before they had to.

            "Think it's heated?" Feldspar asked, shivering and approaching Delates.

            "Probably not," Unit 0's acting commander guessed. "Mavericks aren't the best when it comes to comforts."

            "Just shut up," the snow-pelted Acrystos ordered, shaking off as much of her powdery cloak as she could. "I've been swimming in snow all night."

            "Point," Delates and Feldspar conceded.

            "All guns blazing?" Tyclammel asked, talking to X.

            "Bad idea," X decided at once. "Be ready to defend yourselves, but I don't think we'll need it."

            "Agreed," the more restrained Cort put in, twirling one of his magnums in his fingertips. His black trench coat flapped in the wind behind him, and pulled away from his gray-armored body it provided no protection but he wasn't shivering at all. "The Investigators would have taken care of all resistance when they went in."

            "Right." X looked around and did a brief headcount. Good, everyone was there. Delates, the jack-of-all-trades; Tyclammel, the heavy weapons expert; Feldspar, the sniper; Lyon, the demolitions master; Cort, the deadliest pistol marksman X had ever encountered; Acrystos, the stealth queen; and himself, Mega Man X, the leader and loner. It should be enough, the Blue Bomber told himself for the hundredth time that night—no, it was morning now, he knew, it was just that sun hadn't quite appeared yet, and it wouldn't for a long time given the snowstorm.

            "What are we waiting for, Great One?" the ever-impatient Delates asked.

            X glanced up at the still-black sky and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he prepared for yet another strike into the heart of the Maverick war machine. Then he looked down and into Delates's eyes and nodded. "Let's go."

            X was the first one in. He would have it no other way. Delates was right behind him, shortly followed by Acrystos and Cort. Tyclammel, Feldspar, and Lyon leapt into the chasm together and all seven Maverick Hunters landed inside coding lab UNDINE, ready for battle—Delates had his arm cannon activated and was looking for trouble; Acrystos held two beam sabers with short but wide blades the glowed a cool blue; Lyon's arms had converted to sport miniature missile launchers that rose above his hands; Tyclammel's Gatlin gun was activated; both of Cort's pistols were in his hands with full ammo charges; Feldspar's arm cannon was activated though his sniper rifle was strapped to his back.

            What they found was…nothing. Well, there was something: dead bodies. Heatnix, Wolfang, and Scarabich had been busy, they all saw. X walked right past the corpse of chief technician Billo and looked ahead to where the actual UNDINE lab now lay in ruins. "It won't be coming back this time," he thought aloud.

            "Cameras are all destroyed, sir," Cort reported after strolling up. "Looks like our comrades did a thorough job."

            "Yeah, but have the Mavericks noticed that?" X thought, again aloud. Cort didn't answer.

            "I think that's our path," Tyclammel spoke up, motioning to the far hallway in the room's eastern corner. It didn't seem to lead to any of the obvious garage control rooms, and thus the Hunters approached it assuming that it was the path they were looking for.

            "All right," X said quietly as they approached the hallway. "You've all got the fortress map implanted in your CPUs. You know that Seraph Castle, like all of the Maverick fortresses, is based on a 'ring' structure for security. Typically massive security is placed on the outer ring, since it serves as the main defense line. We're passing that up entirely and appearing somewhere in the middle of the second ring."

            "We still don't know which way takes us to the third ring," Delates pointed out glumly.

            "True," X agreed. "But you all won't need to worry about that. There's an elevator nearby that you'll head to right away. Take that to the lower levels and begin the process of placing bombs on the castle foundation."

            "No problem," Lyon said confidently. "We'll be sure to let you know before we explode them, of course."

            "Of course," X replied dryly.

            "Then you really are just gonna go rushing in there like Rambo?" Delates asked. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want any help?"

            "Delates, I've done this time and time again on my own, and it's actually a blessing. I'm not saying you guys can't keep up, I'm just saying it's easier for me to fight knowing there's no one else for me to worry about."

            "If you're sure, then…" Feldspar grinned. "Who are we to stop ya? Though how exactly do you plan to find this third ring?"

            "That'll be where the control room is," X pointed out. "I don't know how many Maverick leaders are still in this base, but if they're around then one will be guarding each ring, and the head honcho will be hiding out in the control room. I guess I'll just pick a hallway and see where it takes me." He grinned. "Hasn't failed me yet."

            "That's how it's done," Acrystos agreed. "Any idea what's on this path, though?"

            "It wasn't in the castle blueprints," Cort pointed out.

            "Yeah," Delates nodded. "So there could be any amount and size of rooms in between here and the second ring. Stay on your toes, people."

            They did just that for perhaps another two full minutes before encountering a large door of the sort that X knew all too well. It was purplish in coloration and looked almost like a column. If the past was any indication, there would be a large arena and a large guardian behind this gate…but, that didn't make sense, did it?

            "Don't worry," X said, noting their apprehension. "There's no real sense in them putting a guardian here, of all places. Remember, this isn't a place people are supposed to enter the castle from."

            "I guess you're right," Delates said, not buying it and keeping his buster at the ready.

            X approached the door and placed the palm of his hand on the central orb. Security doors like this opened at the input of a certain command, and X had faced enough of them that he had plenty of codes to pick from. The computer in the orb scanned X for the right one, and sure enough there it was. The door broke apart and the parts retraced into the ceiling and floor with a sharp hiss. The Maverick Hunters each inhaled slowly, looking into the room beyond them. Then, one by one, they entered.

            For a while it was quiet. The room was a bit wider than the hall they'd just left, and quite long, but other than that there was nothing of interest, nor was there a giant guardian waiting to smash them to bits.

            "Guess the bossman was right!" Feldspar said happily, clapping X on the back.

            At that precise minute the sound of a gate at the other end of the room caught their attention, and they heard footsteps coming their way. Many footsteps.

            Feldspar blinked and glanced back towards X, who had the same look on his face. "Uh oh."

____________________

            "I can't _believe_ you didn't sound the alarm immediately!"

            "There were power hiccups!" Bit protested to his brother as they pounded down the stairs, a small troop of six Maverick soldiers behind them. "We were told to expect this sort of thing!"

            "By who?" the grumpy Byte growled. "Kujacker? That scheming, good-for-nothing opportunist? Or The Team, who have no concept of security management in a large area? For Chrissakes, Bit, we were the chiefs of Doppler Town! We know security! Why deviate from protocol even a little?"

            "It happened, all right?" the annoyed Bit responded, his massive shield strapped to his back and ready to come off in a moment's notice into his waiting hands. "It's probably nothing, just a malfunction in the cameras."

            "Then how come Billo hasn't been answering our pages?" Byte asked bluntly. Bit had to admit that was a good point. "See? Something's going on, brother."

            That was, for whatever reason, a hard concept for Bit to accept as he started down the long hallway leading to Revolver's garage. They would first pass through a larger room guarded by their favored security gates, a room that had been originally used for storage, and then they would be able to see what was the matter. Bit couldn't rightly believe that anything was wrong. Despite Byte's criticism, he'd done everything by the book this time. This was his second chance, and it didn't matter to him who he was working for—Doppler, Sigma, he didn't care—he just wanted to succeed for once. Security was his business, and this time he thought he'd handled all the angles.

            "Be ready for anything!" the overeager Byte said to the six grunts, somewhat poorly trained ones compared to the others at Seraph Castle.

            "We're not taking them on if we can help it," Bit snapped, pressing his hand against the orb in the center of the security gate at the end of the hallway. "We're not a force to fight a battle with."

            "Says you," Byte snapped back. "How bad could it possibly be?"

            That said, the brothers and their ragtag force entered the storage room and at first saw nothing of import…then their eyes became adjusted to the relative darkness the chamber was immersed in, and they made out several familiar figures…

            "Uh oh," said Bit and Byte together.

____________________

            For a while the two parties just stared at each other. Bit, Byte and their six comrades stood, weapons ready but too dumbfounded to use them. X, Delates, Acrystos, Feldspar, Lyon, Cort, and Tyclammel stood in much the same manner. Finally Bit broke the silence by stepping forward and clearing his throat, an action mimicked by X.

            "X."

            "Bit."

            Another uncomfortable silence followed, though this one was not broken by words of greeting.

            "KILL THEM!" came Byte's sudden roar, and it snapped everyone into action. By some perverse luck, it was actually the Hunters who benefited most from Byte's battle cry, instantly coming to attention and firing off a barrage of rounds at the Maverick soldiers. Two of the Mavericks fell, not dead but crying out in pain from serious wounds. The brothers, suddenly without a number advantage, charged together. Bit's shield came out in front of him just in time to block the spray of fire from Tyclammel's Gatlin gun while Byte barreled through plasma blasts from X and Delates. Acrystos zipped with impressive speed across the room into the Maverick ranks, dueling one of the grunts with her double blades. He parried a few of them, but a sudden riposte took him through the throat. Three down.

            "Good grief!" Bit cried in exasperation. They'd never pull through like this! He deflected another plasma burst with his shield and leapt away from the battlefield. The red gem on his forehead—shaped somewhat like a burning ember—came to life, and from it he drew energies that formed into a thin glowing red ring. He threw the slow moving projectile at his target—Cort—like a Frisbee. The marksman saw it coming and dove hard to his right, letting the ring pass him by. Then Cort stood sharply and leveled a pistol towards the temporarily undefended Bit. With great speed he loosed six shots, but with equal speed Bit raised his shield to deflect them. Cort didn't have time to waste on a counterattack—he pivoted on his right heel, spinning and firing his second pistol at another Maverick, one of the original two down who had decided to get back up and attack the marksman from behind. That taken care of, Cort had to dodge another ring attack from Bit, and then turned to redirect his full attention on his golden opponent.

            X and Delates weren't having much more fun with Byte. The behemoth Reploid let out a roar and charged the two like a linebacker. Delates converted his arm cannon back to a fist and chose instead his beam saber, lashing out at Byte's domed green stomach. The Maverick grunted, but lashed his fist out and caught Delates in the chest, hurling the Hunter clear off his feet. Byte then turned to punish X…only to learn that the blue Hunter wasn't there anymore.

            The tide of the short battle was about to turn fully in the favor of the Maverick Hunters. Bit raised his shield to defend against Cort's second wave of pistol shots, and when the gunman had to stop and reload he lowered his shield and allowed a wave of flaming red energies to cover his fist. His boot thrusters prepared to fire up and take him past Cort in a flaming slash attack that would cut the Hunter in two. He never noticed X approaching him from the left flank, and just as his shield went down X unleashed a fully charged burst of plasma at close range into the Maverick's side.

            Bit flew ten feet through the air and landed in a smoking heap at his brother's feet. Byte looked on in shock at the spectacle, dropping heavily to his knees at his brother's side. Time seemed to crash for both the Hunters and the Mavericks, and no side stirred for maybe five seconds. Then the remaining three Maverick grunts beat it the way they'd come, racing away from the terrifying Maverick Hunters, whose only casualties were Delates with his sore ribcage and Lyon with a flesh wound on his upper outer thigh.

            "You lose, brothers," X said darkly, leveling his arm cannon at Byte's blank face. "Where are the assassins?" Byte said nothing, glaring at the Hunter leader with a mask of hatred. "Nuclear terrorists," X fairly spat in disgust. "It's over."

            "It's never over, Hunter!" Byte finally hissed in reply. An instant later he and his brother shimmered and teleported away, looking as though they were splitting apart.

            X lowered his cannon and let out a sharp breath. "Damn."

            "A little testy, there, Mr. Pacifist?" Delates said gently after a time.

            X turned and actually glared. "These people killed a lot of Hunters a few minutes ago and they're gonna do it again unless Zion stops them in time. If there ever was a time I wanted to fight…now is it."

            "No quarter, then?" Delates asked just as gently, looking in the direction of the surviving wounded Maverick, who had pressed himself in a corner and was trying to look invisible.

            X's stone complexion faltered at that. "No…no, leave him alone. They don't make the decisions." The champion Hunter clenched his fists and thought of other Reploids. "I'll settle things with the decision makers myself."

____________________

            "Oh bloody hell," Malevex observed dryly. "Are we losing ALREADY?"

            "X is here," Byte's hoarse voice informed them via the communicators. "X and others…I think there were seven of them in all. They got three of our boys. Then they got Bit."

            "He's dead?" Teytha asked in disbelief.

            "No!" Byte snapped back. "He's not dead! He's just wounded, is all. X got him good. But he's actually pulling through…he just needs some time, that's all!"

            "He might not have that," Malevex reminded his security officer. "You said they're using the garage hall?"

            "I have no idea how far they've penetrated," Byte said, again hoarse. "Activate all your security measures. All automated defenses should be online as soon as possible. X's team will come under the second ring. The hall opens out into a fairly large power chamber that doesn't have much in the way of power equipment anymore. From there they have to pick different paths. I have no idea what ring they'll wind up in, and they don't either, despite the fact that they probably think they'll be in the middle of ring two."

            "We'll ambush them in the power room, then," Malevex decided.

            "NO!" Byte fairly boomed. "He's OURS! We'll take care of him."

            "Fine," Malevex ordered, himself now severe and speaking quite viciously. "Take X out of the picture. Just remember that he's got reinforcements, and you've got half of a brother left to back you up."

            "You forget," Byte fairly laughed. "You forget that we have our own special powers. We'll stop them. You'll see."

            "Don't screw this up now!" Malevex ordered, again with that cold tone of power he so rarely used. It might have made even Sigma proud. Even the rebellious Byte was compelled to listen. "Calm the hell down, or you and your brother won't survive the battle."

            "Yeah," a more sober Byte agreed after a moment of silence. "Byte out."

            "Chipper lads, you all are," the unflappable Diavus said in a monotone.

            "He's an impulsive fool," Malevex said, shaking his head. "Bit was the one that made sense."

            "We work with what we have," Teytha suggested. "You think it'll be enough?"

            That made the ebon Maverick blink. "Call Mortar," he said to Diavus. "I want him in here pronto. Also call Sigma. It's time to bring him in on this. So long as those Hunters are around," he said, now to Teytha as they moved away to another module, "it'd probably be best to keep everyone together."

            She nodded, feeling the same shiver that had prompted Malevex to summon Mortar to the control room and relative safety. "This isn't how we planned it," she observed, betraying her nervousness.

            "True," he agreed, resting a calming hand on her shoulder. "But at least we planned for things not going to plan. Time to see if any of it was worth the effort."

____________________

            Byte leaned heavily on a wall in a secret chamber in Seraph Castle's lower levels. His brother Bit laid on a medical table hooked up to a charging bay that would, hopefully, encourage his nanobots to mend his wounds faster. It was really all he could do for his brother, and it infuriated him.

            The whole operation had been nothing but chaos, the large red and gold Maverick reflected. The Hunter air force had pounded their outer defenses and wounded both Bit and Byte with shrapnel. Now the internal defenses were failing. But it didn't make sense! How come Billo didn't close the garage gates on the surface? How could it be possible that the Hunters happened to be right there when the ship launched? …No, that was impossible, because they would have attacked a lot sooner. The airship had already been gone for nearly twenty minutes, after all. So what had gone wrong?

            Something obviously had, and his brother was half dead because of it. Bit and Byte were not exactly emotionally linked, like Colonel and Iris had been, but they still got pissed off when the other got hurt, and Byte found himself taken by almost an insane desire to pound Mega Man X into the dust. However, Malevex had been right. He was one Maverick, and there were seven Hunters. If only they'd been able to immobilize at least one of them! But there was nothing he could do about that except developing a new plan.

            Just because he was half unconscious and in a world of pain, Bit's mind didn't stop working. The Maverick with the charred golden armor breathed heavily and shallowly, his only conscious action being to resist the void that beckoned him. There was also a growing rage in the back of his mind that he just couldn't shake, and so he embraced it, letting it fuel his desire to live. Where had X come from, anyway? One minute Bit had been fighting that guy with the pistols, and the next minute…this. How could he have been so careless? But it wouldn't happen next time. And there would be a next time, he promised himself. No way would he let himself die like this.

            **"Is that so?"**

            "What?" said Bit, in his mind.

            **"Am I not speaking clearly?"**

"Who are you?"

            **"I asked the first question."**

The pain and the hatred suddenly became second only to confusion. "No, I will not die like this."

            **"Talk is useless. Watch this."**

            What happened next was like a voyage into a nightmare. Bit's pain receptors went into overdrive, and the Maverick's body shook violently on the table. He was vaguely aware of his brother frantically fretting over him and trying to figure out what was the matter, but then everything went black.

            "What's this?" Bit asked mentally.

            **"The end."**

            "The end?" Bit was actually scared now. "This isn't the end. I've died before. This isn't it. What are you doing to me?"

            **"Why do machines pretend to comprehend death and dying?"** The voice in his head was nondescript, but Bit thought of a male speaking the words. They also conveyed quiet power and authority, more than even Sigma ever had. **"You are a mixture of gears, oil, and circuitry. You cannot 'die'. And so you are correct. This is not death. It is what I said it is. It is the end."**

"What the hell is going on?" Bit asked, somewhat frantically. "Who do you think you are?"

            **"I am the one who will decide your fate."**

            "Bullshit!" Bit's mind raged. "I decide my fate! I am a Reploid!"

            **"As am I. I like you am capable of making my own decisions. And so, I am deciding whether or not I should give you another chance at this life. I can cut off your life support or I can fight to save you. It really is a simple decision for me, though I do not use effort for just anyone."**

"What do you want?"

            **"You want to destroy Mega Man X. You will need power."**

"I have power," Bit replied defiantly.

            **"You have nothing,"** the voice replied scornfully. **"You are a weakling compared to that man. If you are to kill him you will need the power that only I can offer you."**

            During the whole conversation Bit was feeling his inhibitions slipping. Little by little this mysterious mental invader was taking over his mind, making him more and more submissive to his whims. At the same time, Bit's internal processes were rapidly increasing, nanobot programs included, as Byte noticed happily back in the "real world". Now that Bit was actually seriously considering the mystery man's "offer", it was time for an increase in the stakes.

            **"I can speak to Reploids on the brink of death. The worthy find themselves energized. The unworthy die. Without my help, you and your unworthy brother will die at that man's hands."**

            "No," Bit insisted. "Byte can't die. I won't let him."

            **"Then you must help him."**

            Bit's remaining inhibitions caught the hidden meaning behind those words. "Who are you?" he asked one final time. The voice then took on a whole new meaning of power.

            **"I am Ares. I am War."**

            "Ares?" Bit repeated the name of his new benefactor. "War?"

            **"…I exist to bring war to this world. That is my mission. I have accomplished it throughout the years with the help of worthy Reploids like you. Joining with me will provide you with power beyond your wildest dreams…just as it did for your friend, Cyber Peacock."**

"So that's it," Bit made the connection. "That's why he was so interested in Doppler's lab…"

            **"You think fast."** Ares gave the essence of a smug smile. **"Now, you have a choice. Will you join your friend among the ranks of the worthy? Or will you allow yourself another undignified death at the hands of that man?"**

            There was, of course, only one real choice.

            Byte was tending to the monitors on his brother's life support systems when it happened. Bit sat up slowly as though in a trance, and shifted his weight to leave the table. His armor was still rent along the left side, and it sparked as the nanobots sought to heal his wounds, but he was for the most part fixed inside…something that really should not have happened. Byte did not care about such things when he saw his brother standing, however.

            "Bit!" he exclaimed. "What happened? You got messed up pretty bad." He blinked, noticing his brother's strange state, as though he were a newly activated Reploid trying to adjust to his body. "Are you okay?"

            Bit raised his head, his eyes gleaming with even more intelligence and vigor than usual. "I'm fine, Byte. Fine. I can't really explain it, but…I'm just…refreshed."

            "How are your battle programs?"

            "I don't know," Bit admitted, motioning to the cable still running into his left arm. "How are my battle programs?"

            Byte turned sheepishly to the monitors and checked his brother's combat readiness…and promptly stood ramrod straight and nearly choked with shock. "This…there must be some mistake…"

            "What's wrong?" Bit asked, approaching his brother from behind.

            "Your power levels…" Byte shook his head in amazement, still looking at the screen. "They're almost off the charts! Something's charged you big time…no way this can be healthy. Most circuits can't handle this much power…Bit, are you sure you feel all right?"

            But Bit wasn't listening. His body trembled slightly as voices swirled around in his head, voices that blended together only once and allowed him to hear only the words Ares wanted him to hear, those words being the "suggestion" he'd made earlier.

            **"Help him."**

            Byte saw it coming by the reflection in the monitor, but he was too startled to do anything about it. He turned with a look of shock on his face, just in time to see Bit's blazing fist slashing down into his chest, and then there was nothing for him but pain…and blackness…

            …And then a voice.

____________________

            X and his party advanced slowly and cautiously down this final hall. They'd trudged up several flights of stairs after neutralizing camera after camera, knowing that they'd already exposed themselves by letting Bit, Byte, and the other three Mavericks escape. Enemy reinforcements would be coming, and they couldn't allow themselves to walk into an ambush like they had before.

            "According to my map," Delates said quietly, tapping into his CPU, "we're somewhere underneath the second ring, not inside of it."

            "I agree," X replied, just as quietly. "Looks like this isn't going to be as cut and dry as I thought it would be."

            Up ahead of the main party, Acrystos was making good on the offer that had gotten her into this little party in the first place. She had crept ahead of her comrades to scout, and the supply-littered hallway provided plenty of places to hide. The stealth equipped Huntress held in her hands a pistol of sorts that fired not lethal lasers but a static charge much like Vile's but this one knocked most opponents unconscious with a single hit. She found this much more suitable to her purposes most of the time, since anyone could fall asleep on the job and not raise much of a fuss, but if a dead body was found things were much worse. In this case, she just favored the weapon for it's one-shot capability, which would allow her to creep up and deliver the killing blow silently and without danger to herself.

            The halls were getting longer and were taking more of an upward slant. They had to be at least in the middle sectors of the base now, though they were still underneath any rooms of importance. They had to find a way into the main castle halls…well, X did. She was more concerned with finding an elevator or something to take the rest of the team to the lower levels.

            Her investigation ended another purple security gate. "Commander X," she paged him quietly. "I've located another security door. There aren't any cameras in the vicinity." She anticipated his next question and checked an internal scanner. "I'm not picking up anything inside, sir."

            "Don't go in," X ordered anyway. He knew just how reliable those scanners were from unpleasant personal experience. Many were the times he'd charged into a room after picking up nothing on the scanner only to find a grinning Maverick commando waiting to duel him on the other side. "See if there are any hidden doors." Farfetched as it might have seemed, X had indeed made use of several of those in his time.

            Acrystos, however, was not so lucky. She backtracked slowly, picking over every inch of shadow-covered wall but by the time she met back up with her advancing comrades she had nothing to report.

            "Guess we're going in, then," X breathed.

            "Let's try to be ready this time, eh?" Cort insinuated dryly.

            The Hunters retraced Acrystos's steps and prepared themselves for battle. X pressed his hand on the door and it opened with a hiss, revealing a very large, square room with what looked like several hallway exits. The inside was also vacant except for some heavily armored power cables running along the walls. There weren't enough of them for this place to be a major power center for the base, but X remarked that the cables might be worth destroying anyway.

            The Hunters marched slowly inside. Only a single pale blue ceiling light illuminated the room, giving it an eerie atmosphere. X stood front and center after assuring himself that there were no threats to deal with, looking at the massed group of Hunters under his command.

            "Okay," the champion said with a nod of finality. "Use your compasses. There's an elevator on the southern end of this ring. One of the three exit hallways here will get you to it…I'll have to take a different one, probably the central hall."

            "We're in the left hall," Feldspar stated after doing a quick check of his internal compass.

            "You're SURE you can handle things alone?" Delates asked for the umpteenth time.

            X just grinned. "This is the last act, pal. I always put on a stellar finish."

            Delates had to grin back. He wasn't used to seeing X act this confident. Usually this was Zero's role. It was kind of interesting, the current boss of Unit 0 thought, that X was acting more like Zero than Zero was. He wondered what implications THAT might have? Well, he could think of one… "Look, X, about the big bosses…don't lose your head, all right?"

            X's smile faded. "Yeah, I know. That thing with Byte…it won't happen again."

            "Oh, of course not! Commander X is much too in control of himself for a slip like that."

            Every Hunter whirled towards the sound of the new voice, which turned out to reside in the center of the room not six feet behind X. It was Byte, the Maverick strongman they'd faced earlier. His crimson armor glowed an interesting violet in the dull blue light, and his voice was familiar and yet strikingly different—it was still gruff and chilling, but now there was a trace of…amusement? Yes, that was it, Byte was enjoying himself. Already this didn't bode well for the Hunters.

            "Byte," X said with an icy stare in the Maverick's direction. He noted the gash in his stomach orb, and a deeper gash in his chest…had that been there after the fight? The wound was also pulsating with nanobots, and it seemed to X that they shouldn't be able to work so fast without overloading.

            "Tell me, X!" Byte boomed in a voice that was huge and somehow at the same time also moderate and saturated with covert sadistic glee. "How do you intend to mete out justice this time?"

            "It's no different," the Blue Bomber responded, keeping a firm hold on his emotions. In truth he was feeling rage that he'd never felt before. Nuclear terrorism was just a line that in his mind should never be crossed, and these bastards had done it…no, there would be no mercy for such fiends. "You'll all be deactivated, as with all Mavericks."

            "Rather a violent opinion for a pacifist," Byte observed, keeping his hands at his side and staring at the Hunter with a curious expression.

            "Maybe I'm not the person you take me for," X suggested, quietly charging his X-Buster.

            "Maybe not," Byte agreed. "Maybe you're not the person you take yourself for, either. You consider yourself an instrument of justice?" He laughed when he didn't get a response. "Good, then. I can't wait to see your 'justice' once your home is atomized and scattered in the wind. And all your friends, too, with just one little kaboom!"

            "You won't live that long," X declared as he raised his cannon and quickly fired the massive stream of blue plasma at the hated Maverick. Byte didn't even blink. Rather, he smiled eagerly and with a sharp "Yaa!" thrust the palm of his hand outward. The plasma impacted and spread like a pancake, eventually dissipating without proceeding any further.

            X and the Hunters stood slightly dumbfounded at the scene. Byte himself pulled his hand back and examined the damage…his protective glove and synthskin had been melted away, but his hand was mostly functional. He had the powers…now he just needed the new armor. First things first, though, he decided as he lifted his head to face X and company again.

            "Nice try," he grinned. "But I've got all the secrets on my side this time, Hunters!" He continued on in an almost conversational voice that nevertheless resonated throughout the whole chamber. "Well, so much for the orientation. Now it's time for the main event. Do it now."

            As soon as the words were out of Byte's mouth, three shots rang out from each of the three halls. Acrystos let out a yelp as a laser tore into her right shoulder, not destroying the joint but definitely leaving a wound. Delates grunted as a laser hit him right in the chest. Even X was taken by surprise, receiving a shot in his helmet, right above the gem. However fortune was with the Hunters, because the Mavericks were again the victims of themselves: they were using shitty guns. Delates was wearing enough protective armor that the laser energy diminished before doing any real damage. Acrystos would have a slightly weakened arm but she wielded two weapons, not just one, so she wouldn't be at a huge disadvantage. X was perhaps the worst off, because the shot had disoriented him severely—he was not wearing any of his special armors, but he by now had much more durable regular blue armor, and the shot didn't penetrate his helmet.

            Nevertheless the surprise attack threw the Hunters off completely, and the unaffected nervously tried to snap back into action to ward off a second strike. Surprisingly, however, Byte was not interested in this, and simply waved his wounded arm and said, "Go". The Hunters heard three sets of feet running away—the survivors from the last fight—and then it was just them and Byte, who was no longer just standing and smirking.

            "It ends here, X!" Byte roared, rushing forward suddenly, shifting all his weight onto his forward thrust in his devastating dash attack. X's eyes widened and he leapt nimbly to the side, as he'd done in the past…but the normally clunky Byte stopped on a dime, spun around with his arms out and clotheslined the Hunter, sending him skidding across the floor.

            The other Hunters hadn't been just standing there. Cort withdrew both pistols and began rattling off rounds aimed at Byte's head. The strongman took two hits before recovering enough to make a move in another direction, thrusting out his hand and sending a projectile flying through the air. Cort did his own bit of nimble dodging, and the projectile—a mine—slapped onto the floor somewhere behind him.

            Feldspar, Tyclammel and Lyon all raised their arm cannons to open fire but they realized all at once that X was also in their line of fire and they began to relocate. However Byte gave them no room for error, throwing many more mines after the one he'd lobbed at Cort. The three Hunters suddenly found themselves dancing frantically around the deadly objects, and soon began to trip over each other, making them easy targets for the bigger Byte. He cried out and dashed again, impacting Feldspar hard and sending the Reploid clear across the room. Tyclammel and Lyon immediately pointed their cannons at the enemy, but they were off balance as it was and Byte simply threw himself to the ground and actually rolled away like a big log, letting the two Hunters briefly attack each other. That stopped quickly, but disorientation was achieved.

            Delates and Acrystos, recovering from their earlier injuries, raced into action. Both had their melee weapons out, and they decided to take the fight right up to Byte. The big Maverick just laughed a big, booming laugh and charged right at them, not minding the sword slashes Delates was inflicting or the constant beating of Acrystos's energy hatchets on his flank. He stuck out his fists and floored both Hunters simultaneously, and then stopped to collect himself, laughing and bleeding at the same time. He was still in relatively good shape, and his nanobots were still working overtime. He was only getting started.

            Mega Man X got to his feet in complete shock. This Reploid, Byte, who had not been all that difficult an opponent even in the earlier encounters in Doppler Town, had just barreled through all the members of his team. What was more, X had never taken that kind of damage from a simple fist attack before. His breathing was hoarse and he was still seeing stars, and his internal power was trying hard to restore itself. The Hunter shook his head to clear the final cobwebs, checking for the hell of it to make sure that his two Sub-Tanks were full. They were. He then looked up at the gloating Byte and employed his internal scanning system. The results…

            …The results were horrifying.

            "Impossible," the Hunter breathed.

            "What's that, X?" Byte boomed, delighting in the awestruck look on his enemy's face. "Something you'd like to share with us?"

            "Impossible!" X repeated, louder. "There's no WAY your systems can handle that kind of power! They should be overloading! Your power levels are…"

            "Off the charts!" Byte finished, quite maniacally. "You don't have to look so shocked, X. That's just one of the surprises we have in store for you!" Every Hunter who could still think stiffened at the use of the word "we".

            One who couldn't think just yet was Feldspar. He had never been hit so hard in his life, and the entire front of his ornate armor was bent and crunched inward. His chest was on fire, and his pain and damage receptors were screaming. He had received the full brunt of the powerful Byte's charge, and there was no way he could have walked away unscathed. He was just now getting to his feet, and he looked ahead and caught his friend Tyclammel's eye. That eye suddenly got very wide, and Feldspar soon learned why.

            A golden demon fell from the ceiling rafters where he had been watching all the while, amazingly escaping notice from the Hunters when they'd examined the room upon arrival. He fell head-down, his fist a blaze of fire, and his boots ignited to send him right towards Feldspar's back. The new enemy swiped his fist just as he passed the Hunter, causing a lightsaber effect that cut Zero's soldier in two. Then the Maverick touched down near Byte, the fire in his fist dying and his eyes looking up with glee towards the Hunter he'd just defeated.

            "Bit!" X exclaimed, again shocked to paralysis. "But you were…"

            "Destroyed?" Bit chuckled and shook his head, displaying his cruel delight in a characteristically subtle manner, much unlike his brother. His gold armor was rent along the left side where X had attacked him earlier, but like Byte's chest wound it seemed to pulsate with energy of some sort. He was also notably missing his shield. "No, X. I'm not quite defeated yet."

            "Not yet," agreed Delates in a hoarse voice, slowly turning from Feldspar's twitching upper body to face the security officers. "But why wait any longer?"

            And just like that, the shock shattered and chaos began anew. Delates launched himself towards Bit, his saber poised to kill. Bit, however, dashed to the side in the blink of an eye, and Delates, prepared for a speedy retreat but not THAT speedy, found himself tottering off balance as he tried to redirect himself. Then suddenly a ring of fire trapped his legs, spilling him onto the floor and trapping him on the spot. Bit let out a laugh of surprise, not expecting things to be this easy, and launched himself through the air at Delates, planning to halve the commander in the same manner as with Feldspar.

            It was not to be. Bit's aerial charge was rudely interrupted when high-powered laser blasts slammed into his body, foiling his assault and dropping him roughly to the ground. The gold Maverick looked up in annoyance to see Cort standing there with smoking guns and a lethal look on his face. The gunman fired again, but even his speed was no match for Bit's…the Maverick's speed rate was off the charts, like his brother's power rates. Bit was back on his feet and rushing at Cort in no time at all, bringing his foot forward in a swift kick. Cort parried it nicely, bringing a pistol up and rapping Bit hard in the side of the head. More annoyed than hurt, Bit struck back with his fists, driving Cort back a little. But the Hunter surprised the Maverick by holstering his weapons quick as a flash and countering Bit's martial arts onslaught with one of his own. His trench coat flew with him as he turned for a spin kick, and while Bit blocked the kick the coat enveloped him and he momentarily lost equilibrium.

            Before Cort could capitalize on this, Delates did the job for him, leaping at the Maverick and bringing him down with a feral roar. Bit hit the ground hard and took two steely punches in his masked face before rebounding nicely, slamming his hands onto Delates shoulders and charging both with plasma laced flames. Delates recoiled with a yelp and Bit kicked him unceremoniously away. He leapt to his feet with another laugh of triumph…just in time for Cort to plant a gun on his chest and fire.

            Byte hadn't been taking a sojourn. The bigger Maverick was handling Acrystos and the enraged Tyclammel and Lyon. Lyon sent twin missiles flying amidst Tyclammel's laser spray, and Byte was hard pressed to dodge them all. Still, while he took wounds he just kept on going, lobbing mine after mine and forming a little minefield on the east end of the room.

            "Just stay the hell away from it!" Acrystos shouted, but Byte would give them no such leisure, keeping them fairly cooped up in that end of the room. Before long someone would step on a mine, setting them all off and cooking all three Hunters at once.

            X didn't let it get any further than that. The Hunter not for the first time felt rage taking over. Feldspar was a dead man. He'd lost one of the seven Zion—and Zero, in a way—had trusted him with, and they hadn't even begun. These two brothers…their power levels were inexplicably high, but why bother explaining what couldn't be explained? There was only one thing to do now…X had to live his legend.

            A curtain of energies surrounded the Hunter, and when it cleared he was no longer the man in blue everyone pictured him as. An alabaster suit of armor with multicolored trimmings and a crested X-Buster and helmet now adorned him. He had donned Fourth Armor, the newest and most powerful armor package Dr. Light had bequeathed to him. And now it was time to do his thing.

            X, without so much as a peep for a battle cry, approached Byte from behind, charging his X-Buster to the maximum limit…that in this case would have an interesting effect. Four blips resonated in his sound receptors, and he nodded to himself as he raised his cannon and fired.

            Byte roared in shock and actual pain as the energies tore into his back. He spun around just as X unleashed a second charged plasma burst, which further wrecked the green orb in Byte's gut. Eyes widening, Byte tried to dash to the right, but X was a step ahead of him, unleashing the third blast. Byte took it in the lower torso and staggered, no longer able to dodge. X stepped forward and fired the fourth and final charge right into the chest wound that glowed with that mysterious energy, seating Byte on the floor and actually doing the first serious damage of the battle.

            Bit didn't take Cort's point-blank attack well, but he got right to his feet when he saw his brother in trouble. He jumped into the air and dashed through it towards the strangely armored X, his fist blazing once more with fiery energies.

            X saw the attack coming before it even started. He took to the skies, air dashing to meet Bit in the air. Along the way he loaded a weapons program, and his shining white armor took on a color combination of yellow and black. Combatants stopped what they were doing and watched the two opponents collide.

            The result was a bright flash of golden light, and then X was standing on the ground and Bit was suspended in the air trapped in a pulsating web of golden energies. X let out a laugh of his own at his successful Lightning Web attack, and converted back to his normal weaponry, also instructing his CPU to switch his cannon function from a four-burst mode to a program that channeled all energies into an incredibly large, powerful plasma blast. He raised his cannon and began charging.

            But that would have been too easy. Bit's thrashing suddenly took on a reddish hue, and he brought his blazing fist through the strands of the Lightning Web, ripping it to shreds and dropping to the floor just as X finished charging his weapon. Every Hunter pointed their weapons at the Maverick, but Bit surprised them all by fading somewhat and splitting in two…he'd teleported again. Byte had done the same thing, they realized. Once again, the brothers had retreated from battle.

            For a while no one talked. X kept turning nervously around the room, his cannon still fully charged, looking for the brothers to reappear. Delates did the same for a while before stopping, a huge weight crashing down on him suddenly. He turned to see Tyclammel beating him to the punch by kneeling down beside Feldspar, their dying comrade.

            Everything from his mid-abdomen down had been hacked off, Delates noticed as he too knelt beside his long-time squad mate. The body still pumped blackish robotic blood out, though at a diminishing rate. A trickle of the same blood was running out of Feldspar's mouth, and the Hunter was shaking and rattling like an old air conditioner.

            "It's all right, man," Tyclammel was saying, over and over. "It's all right. You done good. You done good."

            "Sorry," the fallen Hunter managed to choke out. "I never…saw it…coming…"

            "No one did," Delates assured him. "There was nothing any of us could have done…"

            "They…" Feldspar went on weakly, struggling to keep his eyes open and on his comrades. "You…got them?"

            "We're going to," Lyon said, joining the group solemnly. "We're going to get them all for this."

            "Good…" Feldspar smiled, albeit without much energy. "You guys…you can do it. This…isn't…it isn't a…"

            "No," Tyclammel agreed, clasping his friend's hand, not knowing what else to do. "It's not an impossible mission. And we'll achieve it."

            "I know…" Feldspar coughed, and for a moment they prepared for a barrage of coolant, but none came. He settled down, his last energy waning, and looked up at X, who was just standing there respectfully, not saying much, feeling much out of place among Zero's unit. "X…get the Commander out…alright?"

            "Yeah," X said with a promising nod. "We'll get Zero out."

            "And…" he went on, "don't…don't let…don't let any of the bastards get away with this."

            "Yeah," X repeated after a brief pause, a response that was echoed by the others.

            Feldspar nodded one last time, finally exhausting what was left of his power. He still managed to muster enough strength to die as he had tended to live—with a little smile on his face.

            For X, it was all too familiar—a Reploid comrade with half a body lying there in front of him dying. It was Zero all over again, but it wasn't Zero this time, it was one of Zero's soldiers, and more importantly one of Zero's friends. X had failed Zero by not keeping Feldspar alive…

            And that would not happen again. He would not fail anyone else. He'd stop each and every Maverick in Seraph Castle…

            And for one of the rare times in X's life, he did not even think of mercy. He was now a necessary Angel of Death, and he'd stop these wannabe tyrants from damaging any more lives than they already had.

            It was, he thought quite rationally, what Zero would have done.

            There was precisely thirty seconds allotted for mourning before the voices returned. "How touching," said one. "How inspiring," said the other.

            Every Hunter snapped to their feet and looked to the center of the chamber. Four mirror images touched down, merging into two familiar forms…Bit and Byte had returned.

            "It was a touching performance," Bit stated pitilessly. "But I'll save my tears, if you don't mind."

            "Save them for yourself," Delates suggested, standing and drawing his sword. "You're going to need them."

            "Is that a fact?" Byte chortled. "You know, they can probably dust us again."

            "True," Bit agreed without emotion. "We have the power, but not the armor."

            "That's fine. We only need the one."

            "Time for talking is over," X responded, charging his buster and wishing he hadn't dissipated the first charge while he'd spoken with Feldspar. "I don't care how powerful you are. You're going down."

            "Oh, can you defeat us?" Bit said in between low laughs, and the blood ran cold in every Hunter's veins, because Bit was speaking with his own voice but there seemed to be another voice intermingled…an eerie, crafty voice that conveyed silent power. It was not Sigma…that much they all could tell.

            "Do your best," Byte suggested, his own words mixed with that same strange voice. "But I wonder how many of you we'll kill this time?"

            Then the brothers moved, but it was not at the Hunters—they leapt into the air and both vanished in a huge flare of light that kept on burning bright.

            "No…" X whispered, his eyes widening. "No…ATTACK!"

            Every Hunter with a projectile weapon began to use it, unloading into the globe of light before them, but it was all to no avail. X fired his own charge, a huge wave of pulsating white-hot plasma, and after that the light died…

            …But in its place was a behemoth, a veritable monster of a machine. It resembled an ornately armored Egyptian sphinx. The "human" portion resembled Bit, only he looked like a golden Anubis, the jackal headed god. The "animal" portion resembled Byte, the big four-legged base of the metal monstrosity. And so, Mega Man X found himself once more beholding Godkarmachine O Nary, the combined form of Bit and Byte, and in general one bad mother.

            "Let's see what you've got!" roared Bit, Byte, and the mysterious presence all at once, and that was all the fanfare the Hunters got.

            "Hunters, attack!" X shouted, charging his buster again. Tyclammel began unloading a spray of gunfire on the Maverick, and Lyon launched two missiles from his wrist gauntlets. Godkarmachine, however, was unfazed. The machine let out a roar of sorts and Bit's hands came off at the wrists, flying around through the air like little missiles. They found Lyon's projectiles and quite literally swatted them out of the air. They next flew into Tyclammel and grabbed him by both arms, stopping his attack and lifting him clear off the ground. Tyclammel began to struggle but to no avail. The hands began pulling his arms outward, and in shock the Hunter realized that Bit was trying to pull his arms out of their sockets.

            X ran forward and unleashed his charged shot at the stationary target. Godkarmachine took the full blow, and the giant plasma shot invoked a wrathful yell from deep within its massive frame. It dropped Tyclammel to the ground and the hands rejoined the body. Bit's jackal eyes lit up with red rage and he produced a gold hilted lightsaber with a thick, blood red blade. At the same time the machine was moving, crawling rather speedily on its four clawed feet. Bit slashed his saber towards X, and the Hunter deftly avoided the surge of energy that sprang from the blade's tip. However the projectile continued on and hit the wall behind the Hunters, fragmenting into two separate waves that ran up and down along the wall, and then along the floor. Cort had to do a last minute dodge, foiling a shot that would have taken Godkarmachine in the head.

            Godkarmachine let out another roar and thrusters on its underside came to life, levitating it into the air above the Hunters, gaining altitude slowly. It dealt nicely with the shots fired by the Hunters surrounding it, and Bit was still slashing and slashing, creating multiple waves of energies for the Hunters to dodge and laughing all the way. "Is that all you've got?" he boomed.

            It wasn't. X's armor glowed red and he charged his new weapon, dashing underneath the Godkarmachine as he did so. Letting out a yell he released his gathered power, leaping up into the air as he came underneath the enemy and throwing a huge wave of fire upwards. He continued through the air and landed on his feet, turning just in time to see his Rising Fire attack slam into the underside of the giant Maverick.

            Godkarmachine grunted and immediately fell hard to the ground. X, having seen this before, prepared to leap over the shockwave. However, when the machine hit the ground there was much more than just a shockwave. The entire room quaked, and electrical energies shot throughout the floor, damaging all the Hunters and even X, who came down from his evasive jump and landed right on a current of energy.

            Godkarmachine laughed again with all its mingled voices, and Bit's hands flew out again, this time carrying the sword in one of them. The first target was Acrystos. The Huntress nimbly brought up her dual weapons to parry all the strikes the sword made, but the second fist came at her from behind, punching her hard in the back and sending her staggering towards the sword, which was now leveled towards her heart…

            It never made it. Cort, recovering from the shockwave attack, saw the lethal strike coming and leveled a pistol at the small and moving target. He fired a single shot…and the son of a bitch hit the fist dead on, knocking the sword out of the hand and sending it skittering across the floor.

            Lyon reacted quickly. The Hunter raced towards the sword and scooped it up, even as the fists were coming towards him. He let them close in and then dove right through the center, dodging both and bringing the sword up towards one of the projectile fists, making contact and badly damaging it. This caused Bit to cry out sharply and retract the wounded hand, but the other stayed. Lyon found out why when the sword in his hands began to burn red-hot. With a cry he dropped it, only to be punched hard in the face by the floating fist that then scooped up the sword and retreated to rejoin its master unit.

            Godkarmachine was rising again, growling with rage. X's armor flashed red again, but before he could execute another Rising Fire attack Godkarmachine pointed its sword down at the Hunters and from it sprang an incredible concentration of energies. The laser hit the ground and caused an explosion of power that ripped into each of the mostly clustered Hunters, knocking them flat on their backs.

            Godkarmachine was laughing again. "Pathetic!" its components boomed. "I'd expected something better. Now you can go join your friend!" Then the thrusters shut off, and Godkarmachine came down again to deliver the final, killing shockwave.

            Mega Man X found himself once again surprised at the sheer power of the brothers' attacks. They had never been this powerful, but now wasn't the time to meditate on such things. X forced himself to his feet and looked in front of him, watching as Godkarmachine began its descent. Then his gaze lowered and he saw…something else, on the east side of the room. An idea flashed in his head, and he grinned as his systems reported that Godkarmachine's laser attack had not been entirely a bad thing.

            "It's over!" Godkarmachine shouted as it fell.

            "It's never over, Maverick!" X echoed Byte's words from the last battle as his armor reverted to its normal coloration and the Hunter leapt high into the air. A curtain of pure, white energy covered his body and began to expand, barely able to control itself. X glared at Godkarmachine, and just as it lowered to a level exactly in front of X the Hunter burst forward with wicked speed, appearing to the awestruck Hunters below him as a virtual comet.

            "NOVA STRIKE!" the Hunter champion shouted just before making contact with the stunned Godkarmachine. The resulting explosion ripped through the Maverick's armor and pushed it back…far, far back. X hit the ground and kept his balance, looking up to see the results of his attack. The enemy, however, fell much farther away and fell very hard indeed…right onto the minefield Byte had sown earlier.

            "Aaarrrrrghhh!" the mingled voices cried as the explosions destroyed much of Byte, just as the deadly Nova Strike—X's ultimate attack that converted damage to weapons energy and unleashed it in one huge body crash attack—had destroyed much of Bit. Most notably, the mysterious third voice the Hunters had detected earlier was no longer there.

            An important detail to note is that when Godkarmachine set off its own mines, the explosion completely obliterated one of the power cables snaking up the wall. The result was a huge electrical flare and the blue ceiling light flickered and died, but came back to life after a few seconds of inactivity, and that was all the attention the Hunters paid to it, though another Hunter would soon find the incident to be quite convenient…but there were more pressing matters for these Hunters to deal with.

            "Impossible!" came the wail of the Godkarmachine. "We're the agents of Ares…you can't stop us!" The sword came up in Bit's good hand, and the desperate Maverick prepared a last ditch laser attack.

            Delates rushed through the smoky air created by the detonating mines and leapt right up at the Maverick. Screaming a battle cry he swung his saber down hard, chopping Bit's arm clear off. Then, even as the Maverick was crying out in pain Delates swung his saber again, decapitating Bit and thus destroying the brain of Godkarmachine. The Hunter then wisely leapt back and ran from the dying machine, just as its combined generators went berserk. A series of explosions rocked Godkarmachine, igniting the remaining mines and making the chaos even worse. The Hunters shielded their eyes and ears and ducked for cover as bits and pieces scattered by the explosion flew across the room. Then the smoke cleared, and Godkarmachine O Nary was no more.

            "Thus, Feldspar, thou art avenged," Delates whispered, melodramatically but knowing Feldspar approved of melodrama.

            X stared at the Godkarmachine's smoking remains, a deep frown creasing his face. There was something wrong about this entire incident. Bit and Byte should not have been able to become that powerful at the drop of a hat. And also, what was the idea behind their final words? "We're the agents of Ares!" Who was Ares? X had never heard of that Reploid…and he assumed it was a Reploid. A chill went down his spine as he pondered the incident as a whole, and he made several mental notes. Cain, and probably Caligula and Signas needed to hear about this. But they weren't the only ones.

            "All right," X said to the others. "You guys know what you have to do. Be careful, though…I don't know what happened with these two, but their power levels were soaring. If any of the other Mavericks are like this, you'll be in for a lot of trouble."

            "We'll handle it," Delates promised him.

            X nodded after a second and the Maverick Hunters came together for a combined high five. Then X took off down his path and the rest of them went down theirs.

            Delates and Tyclammel waited. When the others were gone they carefully lifted Feldspar's body and moved it to the darkest corner of the room, where he could go unnoticed. Then Delates almost ceremoniously removed the sniper rifle on Feldspar's back and strapped it to his own.

            "Think it'll be of use?" Tyclammel asked gently.

            Delates pursed his lips for a few seconds before replying. "Feldspar might yet have some bite left in him. Now, let's go, or we'll never find out for sure."

____________________

            Seraph Castle's power system was a complex one. When Sigma had purchased the land from the dying Seraph weapons company, the base—then a factory—drew power from a central generator that sent power to the various sectors of the building. Sigma had added two more generators so there would be one for each security ring of his new fortress. Power was supplied via power cables that ran mostly inside walls, but in that power room that was now a tomb for Feldspar, Bit and Byte the cables had been exposed, since Revolver had often needed to alter the power flow to supply electricity for his airship project.

            The cable that met its end during the Godkarmachine battle carried power up into the third ring of Hunter HQ, though one sector in particular. The power flickered and died for a grand total of sixty seconds before someone noticed it and redirected power from another source. Inside a small chamber in that sector, those sixty seconds altered the fate of many a Hunter and a Maverick because of what transpired.

            The first thing Zero did was blink. The lights were out. Even when he was alone, the Mavericks had always left a light on. Now it was gone. What the hell was this? Then he noticed the bars: the familiar hum they gave off was gone. Moving almost against his will, Zero reached out his finger and poked a bar…nothing. He did it again and got the same results.

            The Hunter jumped to his feet and grabbed two bars. He felt nothing. By god, the power was out! But for how long? No time to waste thinking about it, he decided, and began to pull with all his might on the bars, pulling them back and hoping to snap them. Thirty seconds into the blackout Zero was sweating and exerting more physical effort than he had in weeks, and the bars were now wobbling. They depended on electric currents for security, not strength, and ten seconds later they snapped. Zero's force was so great that once there was nothing to pull on he wound up throwing himself backwards HARD into the wall. He sat there for a few seconds, dazed, before coming to his senses and squeezing himself through the hole he'd made in his cage.

            He was out…he was free! Zero somehow managed to refrain from letting out a whoop.

            Seconds later the humming returned and the lights came back on. A shiver went down the Hunter's spine as he realized how close he'd come to severe electrocution. But that was the past now. Already he pressed himself to the door, listening out in the hallways and hearing nothing. He checked the door—amazingly it was unlocked. Well why not? He was supposed to be caged, after all. Finally Zero decided that no one was out there, and he opened the door and left the room, slinking into and down the hallway, going God-knew-where but going _somewhere_, and that was good enough for him.

            And so, unarmed except for his fists and his wits, Hunter Zero escaped from his confines and set out to do what Malevex had feared from the start. He would take the Maverick war machine apart from the inside out.

            "Who's laughing now, Sigma?"


	39. Buzz Bomb Morning

Chapter 38: Buzzbomb Morning 

            Colonel Alan Kitao hated mornings as a rule. It didn't help his already frosty disposition that he'd been kept up the better part of the night going over reports of the Hunter attack on Seraph Castle. It only made matters worse when a fairly jumpy private interrupted his brief sleep.

            "Colonel, sir," the young aide said, not missing his superior's scowl. "They're calling for you in the war room." Kitao mumbled something the private didn't catch. "What's that, sir?"

            "Of course they are," Kitao repeated loudly, getting slowly to his feet and waving the private off briskly. It took the colonel a few minutes to reorient himself, and then he reached for the dark green army coat he was rarely seen out of. His hair was a mess, he noted sourly, and so he took his time combing it. Whatever mess was afoot, it could wait. Kitao, finally satisfied, left his quarters and started down the nearest hallway. Chartreuse was waiting for him at the end.

            The tall, spry Reploid seemed devoid of his usual energy, Kitao noted at once. Normally during a time of conflict Chartreuse would be practically jumping with excitement, dying to get in on the action, which he sometimes got to do. This time, though, there was no excitement, just a look of deference and…was that…embarrassment?

            "What do you want?" Kitao asked at once.

            "I decided to walk you down," the Reploid replied, turning to follow his master. "Don't need you falling asleep in midstep like last time."

            "Shut up," Kitao snapped, sharply turning and heading down the hall leading directly to the war room. "What's going on that was important enough to bug me over?"

            "It's Virdelko's order," Chartreuse protested.

            "Klementi? Who is he to give such an order? _HE _got to sleep!" Kitao fairly spat. "What happened?"

            "It's about the Hunters' BROKEN HALO plan," Chartreuse began, his voice trailing off at the end.

            "…And?"

            "There have been some…" He fumbled for the right word. "Complications?"

            "Don't ask me, tell me!" Kitao ordered as they arrived at the door. "What kind of complications?"

            "It's quite interesting," Chartreuse said with a trace of embarrassment.

            Kitao stopped and looked hard at his bloodhound. "Don't tell me…" When Chartreuse's face remained static the colonel found himself enraged, and all drowsiness evaporated. "You…you incompetent bucket of bolts! You let them have nukes…and you couldn't stop them!"

            "What was I supposed to do?" Chartreuse snapped back, regaining some confidence. "Waltz into Seraph Castle myself? I'd be gunned down before I walked ten feet."

            "Do I care?!" Kitao fairly bellowed. "It was YOU who arranged for them to get the Buzzbombs, so you could spur us to act or some such rot. You told me the Buzzbombs were useless, that they were little more than scrap!"

            "I may have been wrong," Chartreuse admitted, again sheepishly. "They're in a position to attack now. The Hunters have failed, and…" The door slid open. "Well…our special guest can fill you in." Kitao blinked once, and then both men entered the war room of the Megacity Army's floating base _Icarus_.

            _Icarus_ had its roots in the Repliforce program. When Cain Labs was developing the Repliforce artillery, they were tasked with providing aerial commander Storm Owl with a sufficiently powerful air force. However Storm Owl himself became directly involved with the program. He and his chief architect and second-in-command, one Sergeant Candela, assisted Douglas in designing the blueprints for two motherships to lead the air unit. Candela named them _Daedalus _and _Icarus_, after the figures in Greek mythology who fled from the Labyrinth using wax wings. The Megacity Army, however, intervened and commandeered _Icarus_ for its own uses, converting it into the floating base it was now. Candela, spiteful but persistent, had revised her plans and created _Impervious_, a substitute mothership to partner with _Daedalus_. In time Storm Owl, Sergeant Candela, and the rest of the unit joined General's fight for independence, and the rest is history. The major note here is that after before X brought down Storm Owl, _Icarus_ assisted in a direct assault on _Daedalus_, crippling the ship enough to allow for X's infiltration—_Impervious _fell earlier due to a covert sabotage assault by a Hunter secret task force called Aegis. _Icarus_ had proven its capability as a weapon as well as a base, and that is what caused the worried Maverick Hunters to knock over the first domino in the events leading to the greatest aerial showdown since the Repliforce War. Now there was a new enemy encroaching from the skies…_Gallagher._

            General Klementi Ily'ch Virdelko was already talking, and wiped a bead of sweat dripping from a strand of his still-thick white hair when he noticed Kitao. The colonel came up next to the general and saw to his surprise that his superior was speaking to a hologram…a hologram of a Reploid Kitao knew well.

            "I don't _know_ how much longer we can hold out," Signas was saying, his image flickering somewhat. "Hell, I don't even know how long this holography will hold out! We have no power sources, we're all evacuating as we speak…"

            "Evacuating?" Kitao interjected, much to his own surprise. "What's going on?"

            "Oh, Colonel, are you there too?" Signas asked with a blink. "Well…"

            "It's long, and there's not much time," Virdelko interrupted briskly. "The Mavericks pulled a fast one, Alan. They hid units in the city and have completely devastated our Army Headquarters on the ground."

            "WHAT?" the Colonel exploded. "How--"

            "Man, be quiet and listen!" Virdelko fairly shouted. "They immobilized Alden Base somehow, and now they're surrounding Maverick Hunter Headquarters, which is bad, because…"

            "Because all the Hunters are off at Seraph Castle," Kitao finished.

            "Yeah," Signas's image piped up. "We thought we could hold them off, but an airship showed up out of the blue. We think it's carrying those Buzzbombs, Colonel."

            "Holy Christ," Kitao breathed. "They have activated them, then?"

            "We have to assume that," Signas said glumly. "I've ordered an evacuation but we can't go far. The Mavericks are surrounding us and there aren't enough of us to push through. We need some help."

            "I don't know what help we can give!" Virdelko protested, something he seemed to have been doing for a while now. "I've already ordered _Icarus to approach the HQ, but we're a good distance away and we move slowly. I don't know if we'll get there in time to help."_

            "Don't you have ground forces up there?" Signas was grasping at straws now. "Don't tell me you have a whole floating base full of secretaries! There has to be soldiers up there!"

            Chartreuse stood respectfully behind the two humans, his head slightly bowed and his arms crossed behind his back. He looked as though he were mulling over options and making a decision. Then he nodded and raised his head and cleared his throat. "We do have some Dragoons."

            "What's that?" Signas asked, hearing what might be the golden bit of hope he'd been looking for.

            "I said," Chartreuse repeated louder, "we do have some Dragoons. A squadron, at least. We could hop a transport, though I still don't know if it'd be in time, and I don't know if there are enough soldiers to make a difference."

            "All help is good help!" Signas pointed out. "Our plan is to push through the weakest link, the most sparsely guarded part of the Maverick perimeter. We're about halfway there now…I think everybody's out of the HQ, except the woun...." He trailed off as though physically struck. "Anyway," he said after shaking his head quickly, "we need more people to have a chance, and…what's that…?"

            It was as though every sound in the world had ceased. Computers stopped humming, people stopped whispering, the air stopped circulating, ambient sounds ceased to exist, and even the drone of _Icarus's engines didn't seem prominent anymore. Signas was joined in the holoscreen by a shorter Reploid in midnight blue armor and a brown trench coat, who was frantically pointing at something in the distance._

            "Caligula," Kitao identified him with a whisper. "But what is he…oh, my God…!"

            The Hunters were starting to shout. The humans could hear it. Even Signas's face fell. "Run!" the Hunter Commander finally shouted. He turned back to whatever was projecting his image. "We need help, and we need it now! It looks like they're activating a launcher! Repeat, the airship is preparing to launch, and it could be a Buzz…" His voice trailed off as a new sound was transmitted…

            …The telltale hum of what sounded like an approaching hornet.

            "It's over," Signas whispered, just before his image flickered and died and the holoscreen switched off. For a while all noise crashed again, and no one in the _Icarus war room dared speak._

            "God help us all," Klementi Virdelko finally whispered. He turned slowly to Alan Kitao, who stood aghast. "It's them, isn't it? The ones from Terrornova?"

            "It is," Kitao whispered hoarsely. "The ones that killed Peter and Timofey. They're coming now with nukes."

            "We should never have done it," Virdelko said quietly, shaking his head. "I was never really in favor of it…why did we go ahead and…?"

            "It was the right thing, Klementi," Kitao assured the Russian. "Reploids are…you see what they're doing now! They'd have done it anyway no matter if Terrornova had existed or not. They can't be trusted. We were right to deactivate the strong ones. Look at Sigma!"

            "No," Virdelko said. "I don't think we were…I don't think it was needed…" He looked up at the ceiling, inhaling slowly and laboriously. "God help us," the general repeated, his entire frame drooping with apprehension.

            Chartreuse had heard every word, and he quite easily discerned the differences between the two men. Virdelko was defeated, shamed, and ready to throw in his cards. Kitao was equally deflated, but deflated was a lot different from defeated…and Kitao had retained the flinty stubbornness Chartreuse had come to expect from his boss. There was still a fight left to be fought, and Kitao was going to fight it no matter what. And that meant…the Reploid couldn't stop a tiny smile from creeping onto his face. It really was amazing. All his preparations, all his maneuvers…they were all working out according to plan. And now he could tie up the only loose end that remained to choke him…and he could do it personally. All he had to do was convince one of these two pawns to give him the Dragoons…

            …And that was all the humans really were to Chartreuse. Pawns. It was all anyone was to him. The world consisted of pawns, but Chartreuse was a player…and he'd just surrounded the enemy's king.

            "General Virdelko," Chartreuse said forcefully, "Colonel Kitao! With all due respect this is not over. Give me the order, and I will assemble all the Dragoons present and we will organize a counterattack."

            "With what?" Virdelko asked dismissively. "The Hunters are gone. Where are you going to find troops?"

            "The bulk of the army was going to Seraph Castle," Chartreuse continued, annoyed at the interruption. "We will find and link up with them, and we will secure the area."

            "And the airship?" Virdelko asked, turning to look the Reploid in the eye.

            "Keep _Icarus on its present course," Chartreuse suggested. "Enter the battle and shoot down the enemy ship. Only __Icarus has that firepower. A surprise attack on that ship will be the death of it. Sirs, all we need is one good shot!"_

            "I agree," Alan Kitao said throatily, regaining some flint in his voice and standing straighter. "This is most certainly not over."

            "Alan," Virdelko protested, "we cannot fight an army with a single ship!"

            "Alden Base is still there," Kitao pointed out. "Colonel Jones will work out the bugs in time, and we'll have reinforcements then."

            "Alden Base," Virdelko said as the name reminded him of something. His eyes widened. "And Marauder, Alan? What if they use it? What if they use Marauder?"

            Kitao had to stop at that. Marauder X74, the Megacity Army supermecha that had been stolen from Alden Base earlier, was probably in Maverick hands. If they used such a weapon…

            "We don't have a choice." The colonel nodded forcefully. "If they have it, we will just have to deal with it."

            "With what?" Virdelko snapped, standing straight and looking his subordinate in the eye. "We have a few missile batteries and a handful of Dragoons, few of whom know how to fly our Dark Clouds! And what makes you think that there's even anything left to protect?!" Virdelko's voice dropped a few notches. "That was a Buzzbomb, Alan. They fired a Buzzbomb."

            Kitao's flinty expression didn't change. "Are you saying you want out, Klementi? Is that what you're telling me?"

            Virdelko stood ramrod straight, looking down at this shorter but far more arrogant, far more racist, and far more violent man. "I will not lead these men on a suicide mission."

            "Then I will," Kitao said simply. "And it won't be a suicide mission. It will be a success." He motioned to Chartreuse. "He'll meet with the rest of the Hunters…X and the others. If anyone can stop the Mavericks, it's them. We in _Icarus will destroy that airship and the ground war will be decided in our favor. Unless, of course," he added, looking up with mocking deference, "you order me to stand down."_

            Klementi Virdelko's eyes smoldered with rage, but at the same time they wavered in indecision. On one hand, he could lead the attack and probably kill off most of his men, the young soldiers who he'd guided along what he considered a decent path. Yes, he was somewhat of a racist towards Reploids…well, he had been, he decided. But that had been when they were new, different, and therefore untrustworthy. Now they just…didn't bother him. And Terrornova had been Kitao's brainchild; it had just needed Virdelko's seal of approval, which the then-colonel had given because he understood the program to be beneficial to the population's security. He'd never fully understood Kitao's methods of instilling obedience until well after the program was underway, and to compensate for it he'd made more of an effort than any other of his comrades to minimize the discrimination of Reploids in his personal ranks, a gesture that while mostly empty did help him sleep better at night. He could send those men and women, both organic and robotic, to war and probably death. But…could he really? Despite Kitao's assertions to the contrary, Virdelko just couldn't see how they would win this one.

            "I will have no part in this," General Virdelko finally said, turning and walking towards the door.

            "Then leave," Kitao said, gently. "Leave, Klementi."

            The general wheeled around. "Excuse me?"

            Kitao set his lips in a straight line, a gesture of understanding. "I know how you feel, comrade. Your position is different, and you have a lot more to worry about. Let me handle this." He smiled weakly. "It's not a good situation, but let me make it right."

            Virdelko found himself not buying it. Still, the colonel had a point. "I am going to the Sub-City 8 barracks." He looked hard at the colonel, his partner for many long, tiresome years. "Goodbye, Alan." Then he turned and left for the docks.

            Colonel Kitao shook his head when the door shut. "A weak man."

            "And a stronger one is in charge now," Chartreuse said anxiously. "Now can I mobilize the Dragoons, or will we stand here with our dicks in our hands until _Gallagher comes for us? Figuratively speaking," the Reploid added with a slight grin._

            Kitao kept his smile internal. "Get going." Chartreuse nodded and left, leaving the colonel and now base commander alone with his thoughts.

            Not once did Kitao think to wonder how Chartreuse knew the airship's name.

            For Gredam, the sight was almost like the actual realization of the goal he'd striven for during the past year. Stretched out before him was the skyline of Megacity 5 on the dawn of a new day, and the last day for the building in the center of Gredam's sights: Maverick Hunter Headquarters. _Gallagher was still about a mile away from the target, which was the optimum firing distance. The Buzzbombs had a blast radius of perhaps a half-mile according to Greenback, but Gredam approved of the "better safe than sorry" doctrine; any closer and they might get scorched. It was now or never, the Maverick field leader thought with a twinge of anticipation._

            "Chuck," he said to the Maverick manning the nearest mainframe. "What's going on?"

            "Everything," Chuck and Revolver answered together.

            "Boomer Kuwangner reports that Frontline is in position. Nothing is wrong, for now." Chuck smiled and looked up. "Are we ready?"

            Gredam's eyebrow rose at the bluntness but he couldn't make himself get angry. "I believe so." He turned to Storm Eagle and Gravity Beetle. "Are you two ready?"

            "Everyone in the hold is ready," Gravity reported. "We're ready to deploy and rendezvous with Frontline as soon as the order is given."

            "Good." Gredam smiled and turned to the frog perched on a stool, literally bouncing with excitement. "Greenback?"

            "Greenback has told you!" the Maverick blurted. "Greenback has the Buzzbombs ready to fire. The propulsion systems are working perfectly, and diagnostics reveal no-" He stopped to spear an insect with his tongue, much to the resentment of Gravity Beetle. "No errors."

            "And the Buzzbombs themselves?" Gredam pressed.

            The frog sighed. "Again, Greenback has told big green bossman! Buzzbombs are fixed as much as Greenback can fix them. Buzzbomb programs are repaired, but fragile. Greenback thinks he makes good weapons, but Greenback can make no promises," he finished, waggling a webbed finger.

            "You mean, they might work, they might not?" Gredam said dryly.

            "Well…" Greenback looked as though he were reconsidering. "Greenback spoke too pessimis…pessi…pepsimistically." He nodded his bulbous head, proud of his language mastery. "Buzzbombs SHOULD work. All odds point to big red fire. Still, is chance that nukes won't work. But!" Greenback cackled eagerly. "Greenback added lots of regular boomers in the missile shaft, like bossman knows. Greenback thinks there will be a lot of fire no matter what happens."

            Gredam smiled again at that. "Sounds good to me. Now, have we heard from Scythe? I'd like to assume that he's doing his job, but-"

            "Uh oh," Chuck blurted out. Revolver was at his side immediately, punching in the command to turn on the viewscreen. A monitor flickered on to reveal the angry face of Boomer Kuwangner.

            "We've got a development," the Frontline commander rasped.

            "Go on," said Gredam apprehensively.

            Kuwangner's already slitty eyes narrowed more. "Tetra's unit reports that the Maverick Hunters are evacuating."

            "Dammit!" Storm Eagle swore. "Scythe must have failed!"

            "No," Gredam shook his head. "No, he kept them in there this long. How far are they, Boomer?"

            "Not far," Kuwangner said at length, not even trying to disguise the lack of respect he held towards Gredam. "They only just started moving. I know Signas, their leader, brought a holographic device with him. He might be calling for help."

            "Well we can't allow that," Revolver pointed out, gesturing anxiously to Greenback's computer.

            Gredam didn't hesitate long. "Are your men out of the way?"

            "What does that matter?" Kuwangner asked scathingly. "Accomplish your mission, Maverick. Now is the optimal time. Forget extraneous data."

            "Extraneous…" Gredam stiffened and his eyes took on a steely look. "Report as ordered, Underling. My mission is to defeat the Maverick Hunters, not to kill off my own men."

            "Underling!" Kuwangner scoffed, unaffected by Gredam's monstrous glare. "Who are you to give me an order? I answer only to Lord Sigma!"

            "Yes," Gredam said, his voice dripping with irony. "And you know how Lord Sigma feels about insubordination, and I outrank your scrawny ass, so tell me what I want to know or I'll send the nuke down your throat. With Sigma's blessings!"

            Boomer Kuwangner did not visibly recoil, but he blinked his eyes, which was enough to show that he'd been put in his place. "Frontline is out of the line of fire," he rasped finally. Then, malice dripping from his words, he went on. "But don't think you'll keep your rank long. It's not like Sigma to hold on to a man who started out as a human's bitch."

            "Your mission awaits you," Gredam said, smiling eerily. "I wish you the best of luck."

            Kuwangner bristled, but didn't reply. He cut the connection and the smile faded from Gredam's face.

            "My brother is…an asshole," Gravity Beetle explained meekly. "But he…he is dedicated to the cause, and he started off with Sigma, and he doesn't much like change-"

            "I understand," Gredam nodded, silencing Gravity's rambles. "And I won't grudge him his opinion. His insults are another matter." Gravity absorbed this, weighing Gredam's character, and decided his brother's life was probably not in danger. He nodded, and Gredam turned to Greenback. "Arm the launchers."

            Greenback cackled. "It's already done. Greenback did it while bossman was talking to the big ugly bug."

            "Good. Revolver, let's have an EMG pulse. No sense letting them teleport away."

            "You got it," Revolver responded. Seconds later a thunderbolt of sorts flew from a pointy cannon under the ship's right wing and blasted MHHQ, creating a barrier all around it that disabled mechanical devices.

            Gredam cracked a smile and looked back to Revolver. "Do we have a lock?"

            "Of course," Revolver responded with a lopsided grin. "I've been ready for five minutes now, commander. Let's get this show on the road, y'think?"

            "Yeah," Gredam nodded at length. "I think." He looked over to Greenback, who was bouncing like a kid at Christmas, anxious as hell to see his pet project in action. All the preparation, all the practice…the quarry battle, the Blackstar raid, the Sub-City 3 kidnapping, and the attack on Hunter and Megacity forces the previous night…it all came down to this moment. And in this moment, Gredam knew, he, Malevex, Teytha, and Mortar…and Redmond, and Grate, and Saybir, and everyone else who'd died in Terrornova…they would all be avenged.

            "Do it," Gredam ordered. "Launch your missile now."

            "Talk to me, Ledyard. What's happening on your end?"

            "Everything in the green, Tiberius," Dr. Sidney Ledyard responded, monitoring the vital signs for a very special doctor named Cain. "It was a very minor heart attack, which is surprising given the circumstances."

            "Indeed," Tiberius noted without emotion, working hard on Krysta's monstrous side wound. The Huntress was unconscious on the operating table, her face displaying a vague peacefulness that was nevertheless tainted by a pained grimace.

            "This looks familiar," another woman said with a mirthless smile.

            "It's ladies night for getting mutilated, Commander," Tiberius explained just as blandly.

            "So it would seem," Commander Damia murmured, resting a hand on her own very sore side. Her whole stomach was on fire, but she viewed that as a good thing because it just meant that all the sedatives she'd been given to null her pain sensors during her operation were finally wearing off.

            "I've almost finished with this one," Tiberius reported, looking for something to patch the hole Scythe's namesake had punched in Krysta. "How's things at your end, Carlton?"

            The Reploid working on Nightchaser looked up and frowned. "This guy's pretty well cut up. I've saved his vitals but as far as his frame…"

            "I can help," Damia volunteered. "Unless you think that stuff you doped me up with will interfere."

            "At this point who cares?" Carlton shrugged. "C'mere and do what I tell ya, and we may fix this guy yet."

            That was the end of conversation for perhaps seven minutes. That was when Dr. Carlton finally decided to speak his mind about the situation. "Guys? Anybody else think we shouldn't be here?"

            "We've fixed them up as much as we're going to," Tiberius agreed. "Sidney, why are you still here, anyway? I told you to evacuate with the others a long time ago."

            "I had a job to do," Ledyard said, indicating Cain.

            "You also can't teleport," Tiberius made his point.

            "Neither can Cain," Ledyard made his counterpoint.

            Tiberius frowned and looked to Carlton and Damia while indicating Chase and Krysta. "Teleport these two patients out of here with yourselves. Find the main units. I'm going with Dr. Ledyard to get Cain out the long way."

            "And face the Mavericks alone outside?" Damia shook her head. "You'll need some protection."

            "I can fire a gun," Tiberius reminded her. "Very well, actually, milady."

            "Well I can fire one better," Damia was unflappable. She turned to Carlton and motioned to Krysta and Chase. "Teleport out with them."

            Carlton bowed to the Huntress's wishes and rested his hands on the patients' shoulders. Five seconds later he was still standing there.

            "Uh…Carlton?" Damia prodded.

            "I'm trying!" Carlton snapped. "But it's not working!"

            "What do you mean, it's not working?" asked Ledyard.

            "Something's interfering with teleportation," Carlton explained hastily. "I don't know wha…oh, no way…"

            "Electromagnetic pulse." Tiberius shook his head. "Holy shit, people, I think we're in really hot water here."

            As if to confirm his suspicions a loud buzzing sound was heard, even deep inside Hunter HQ. Everyone inside stiffened, connecting the buzz with the bomb.

            "Godammit Tiberius," Damia whispered. "I hate it when you're right."

            The panic was really kicking in now, Caligula noted sourly.

            The intelligence chief rubbed the side of his aching head and tried to ignore the dread that was building up in his stomach like a volcano. Everything, absolutely everything was falling apart around him. First, the hacker incident. Then, Alden Base and the Megacity Army went offline. Finally, they had no contact with their field troops. And now, the worst thing of all--they were leaving their home base to the encroaching enemy, the enemy Caligula had hated for all his years of activation…the Mavericks.

            And that wasn't even the worst part, he noted as he marched at the head of the rapidly moving party, leaving Hunter HQ in their wake. They weren't just leaving a base behind…they were leaving comrades.

            "Tiberius," Caligula thought aloud, while scanning the horizon for any apparent threats. They were moving ever closer to the Maverick ranks, and who knew when an attempt to drive them back would come? Tiberius was alone now, for all intents and purposes. The chief medic had refused to evacuate with the others, remaining with his patients--the critically wounded Nightchaser and Krysta and the catatonic Dr. Cain. The only bright side Caligula could think of was that Damia was rapidly recovering from her earlier wounds, and should be able to help Tiberius keep any enemies at bay…provided they weren't nuked first.

            They weren't the only ones left behind, Caligula knew. Kevin Seitz hadn't turned up yet, and that worried his boss more than a little. Seitz knew a hell of a lot. If he fell into Maverick hands… And dead it would be just as bad, Caligula knew, since Seitz was one of the best controllers the Invisible Men and Aegis in particular had ever come across.

            Aegis…god, he wished he had it now! But he'd disbanded it after the fourth uprising, as per course, and hadn't thought it necessary to reassemble the covert team to aid in BROKEN HALO. So, now he was stuck with this ragtag bunch of Hunters, most of whom lacked any fighting experience whatsoever except maybe Alia and that Xu chick. And then there was Caligula himself. Caligula had always considered himself short. He was perhaps 5'2, but in many cases the slight weasel was more dangerous than the giant bear, and Caligula epitomized that analogy. The dark blue Reploid--armored now, though still in his trademark brown coat--knew enough martial skills to devastate anyone in close quarters combat, which was what he as a former field spy had been used to. He could also fire a gun very well, though he had no built in weapons and all he had with him now was an energy pistol that while powerful was still just a pistol. He sorely hoped he wasn't put into a situation where he had to rely solely on that.

            "Caligula."

            The Reploid turned; it was Douglas. "Yeah?"

            The clunky green Reploid mechanic frowned and motioned towards the horizon. "It's a Nova class airship. I've worked with those…_Death Rogumer was Nova class, too."_

            "Nova," Caligula said, catching the symbolism behind the name. "Cute of them."

            Douglas didn't avert his gaze or quash his frown. "Those things have a pretty nice firing range, Cal. I'd definitely say it's within firing distance now."

            "Why do I feel the sudden urge to shoot the messenger?" Caligula asked with a helpless half-smile.

            "I'd shoot me too," Douglas agreed, though he didn't smile. "What the hell are we going to do? We'll never make it out of the area in time."

            "Just keep moving," Caligula suggested weakly, keeping his eyes on the airship. "Where's the boss?"

            "Signas? He had me hook up a portable holograph unit. I think he's calling _Icarus."_

            "Fat lot of good will come of that," Caligula snorted bitterly. "What are the pen pushers gonna do, clap a writ on 'em?"

            "Who knows?" Douglas said, resuming movement. "Anyway, we've still got a good ways before we hit the Maverick lines, so let's think of how we're gonna break through."

            "We're still heading towards the weakest concentration, right?"

            "Hell if I know," Douglas shrugged. "I didn't exactly have time to pack a radar station with me."

            "Shit," Caligula observed. "So we could he heading straight into a hornet's nest. Could this night get any--Douglas, what the hell is that?"

            The mechanic spun immediately, encouraged by the sharpness of his comrade's voice. What he saw froze him. Underneath the wings of the approaching airship, the thick tubular launchers were coming to life. The right launcher began to give off a whine that was heard even a mile away where the Hunters stood. Then it began to flare to life.

            "Jesus," Douglas breathed. "It's gonna fire."

            "Is that a Buzzbomb?" Caligula asked, taken by the same panic that had seized the other Hunters. "Does that look like a-"

            "Yes," Douglas affirmed. "And I don't know if we'll be far enough away…oh, my God…what the hell do we do now?"

            But Caligula wasn't listening anymore. The intelligence chief raced back towards Signas, who was very involved with his _Icarus transmission. He roughly directed Signas's attention skyward, breaking his commander off in mid sentence._

            Signas's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Run!" he ordered all the nearby Hunters, and he and Caligula started to flee together. It was at this point that a trail of fire spouted from the launcher, speeding towards Hunter HQ like a little comet. Then came the worst sound of the night: a buzzing.

            It was like a hornet was buzzing in every Hunter's ear, and they all connected it with something bad, even those who didn't know that the nukes were named "Buzzbombs". The projectile came closer and closer, heading directly towards Hunter HQ, though Signas couldn't help but wonder if the blast radius would take the fleeing Hunters as well.

            "It's over…" the Commander whispered despite himself, and then his holograph machine went out.

            Buzzbomb One launched without any complications, leaving the _Gallagher perimeter without the premature detonation Gredam and the others had long been terrified of. It sped through the air directly towards its target with its trajectory in tact all the way. The warhead's internal functions activated ten seconds after the launcher began, and at the same time the ordinances Greenback had installed as backups came online, waiting for the instant of impact to trigger detonation._

            The warhead was to go through three strokes while the proper components activated to create the nuclear blast. The first stroke went off without a hitch, bringing the bomb online and readying the plutonium within. Greenback, try as he might, had never been able to fully comprehend the connector units that tied some of the more minute devices together, his problems spawning from confusion over what to do with a single connector rod. The absence of full connections caused some parts of the warhead to go offline…and then come back online, and go back offline, and come back online, and so on and so forth due to the constant rattling of the missile as it fought air pressure. Nuclear detonation was literally a fifty-fifty chance; it all depended on when the missile hit something. The Buzzbombs were set to detonate at impact, unlike some other missiles that were rigged with devices that detonated the warheads when sensors detected that the projectile was a certain distance from the target. The Maverick reasoning for going with the former method was that there were a lot of smaller buildings around MHHQ, and if the Buzzbombs were rigged with sensor-detonators, they might go off when they got close to one of the other building, and the relatively small blast radius the Buzzbombs gave off might not reach MHHQ. Therefore, the warhead awaited the strong jolt of impact that would jar the final connector piece into place and trigger detonation--and Greenback had gotten THAT connector up and running without a hitch.

            The missile propulsion was working just fine, alleviating another Maverick fear: that the missile wouldn't travel as far as it was supposed to and crash in some other part of the city on its way to the MHHQ. Buzzbomb One showed no such signs, and sped straight at the target building, its telltale buzz filling every nearby ear.

            There was no action taken against the missile, though some Ravens were certainly doing their best. Bale had taken off from the hangar shortly after Signas gave the first order to evacuate, and had went to rendezvous with Alec Tremont and company, who had been examining the Maverick ranks and in some cases actually dropping ordinances on larger Maverick concentrations. In the chaos caused by _Gallagher's appearance no one thought to radio Bale or Tremont, and so no one came running. The pilots, however, happened to be on the return loop, and so they were just in time to see the Buzzbomb streak towards their home base while knowing that they were too far out of range to shoot the missile down._

            And so it was that Buzzbomb One now hovered over the street leading directly towards MHHQ, an unstoppable speeding bullet. Signas froze in horror, Caligula paled, Alia gasped, Xu covered her eyes and ears, Boomer Kuwangner cackled viciously, Gredam smiled thinly, Greenback rubbed his hands together in anticipation, Revolver and Chuck held their breath, and Bale turned off his radio because Alec was screaming obscenities as loudly as he could. With all the players watching, the nuclear missile slammed into the front of Maverick Hunter Headquarters…

            The explosion was the most horrific thing any of them had ever seen.

            A huge bang resonated throughout all of the gigantic Megacity 5. The entire front wall of Hunter Headquarters collapsed, and flames shot throughout the building as it was slowly ripped apart. The foundation rankled and the upper floors collapsed on each other around the building's front. Waves of white light flew out around the rising fireball, and the ground shook a half-mile in every direction.

            And then those who witnessed the chaos were stunned as the facts caught up with their minds. The huge bang they'd all heard was actually a series of many bangs in rapid succession. What could THAT mean? But it wasn't a time for meditating on details. All anyone, Hunter and Maverick alike, could do was look at the flames rising from the site of Maverick Hunter Headquarters, each waiting to see what had happened.

            "Migod!" Kuwangner couldn't help himself. "Look at that blast!"

            "YEE HA!" Tetra's voice boomed from Kuwangner's radio. "We ready, boss?"

            "Yes," Boomer replied without hesitation. "Get moving! Frontline, close in!"

            "Good lord," Revolver breathed, surveying the carnage from his vantage point aboard _Gallagher. "What a fire!"_

            "The place is a wreck!" Gravity Beetle exclaimed. "That missile ruined the headquarters!"

            "Indeed," Gredam said breathlessly. There was silence for a few respectful seconds before Gredam continued. "With carnage like that…can you imagine what it would have been like if it had been nuclear?"

            Storm Eagle whirled on his clawed heel and fixed Gredam with an incredulous stare. "What?!"

            "He is right," Greenback croaked sullenly. "Buzzbomb warhead did not activate."

            "Wha…" Eagle shook his head. "No way. Look at that place! You're telling me it wasn't nuclear?"

            "Wait for the dust to clear," Gredam suggested. "Were it nuclear, there would be nothing left. Besides, even now there is no mushroom cloud, and nukes are famous for those, right Greenback?"

            "But Greenback doesn't understand!" The frog had tracked the Buzzbomb's status during its flight. "Why did it not work? Greenback worked so hard…Greenback should have been able to—" He stopped and his eyes bugged out at something on the screen. "Of course…the connector rod! So that's it!"

            "What's what?" Revolver asked, finding his voice.

            "Greenback has it!" the frog repeated. "Greenback knows how to make the Buzzbombs…yes, yes, it will work! It will work!" The frog was bouncing with glee. "Revolver! Open the gate to the wing, Greenback will fix Buzzbomb Two!"

            "Who needs a nuke?!" Eagle went on. "Greenback, your reserve ordinances are just as bad! Who needs overkill?!"

            "We do," Gredam pointed out and nodded to the frog.

            Greenback bounced towards the door after grabbing his toolkit. He stopped and threw a weird look at Gredam. "Don't fire missile while Greenback is working on it."

            "Of course not!" Gredam had to laugh. "Get to it." He turned to Revolver. "Call up Frontline." A few seconds later and that was done. "Kuwangner. Have your troops move in."

            "We're not going to nuke the HQ?" Revolver interjected, surprised.

            "It's already done," Boomer Kuwangner rasped back. "Looks like it went off without a hitch."

            "Not quite," Gredam said, waving Revolver off. "It didn't go nuclear on us."

            "Not nuclear…" Kuwangner was audibly stunned. "Jesus."

            "Execute Plan B," Gredam ordered. "Close in and occupy what's left of Hunter Headquarters." He hesitated, but then went on. "Kill anyone you find on the way."

            "No fear there!" Kuwangner said ghoulishly and signed off.

            "We're not going to nuke the HQ?" Revolver asked again.

            "No, we're going to do one better. We're going to live there." Gredam grinned and turned to Gravity Beetle and Storm Eagle. "Take the troops in the hold and head down. Rendezvous with Frontline and take over Maverick Hunter Headquarters."

            "Roger," the two Mavericks said together before turning and leaving.

            Gredam turned back to Revolver. "It'd be a waste to use the second nuke. Look, the dust is starting to clear. See the damage?"

            "Yeah," Revolver snorted. "Half the building is still there."

            "But half of it isn't," Gredam pointed out. "We'll use normal ordinances if we have to. Until then—" He stopped. "What's that?"

            "Enemy aircraft moving in, sir!" Chuck exclaimed. "Looks like the Ravens are mad at us!"

            Gredam blinked and nodded. "Let them come. We need to buy Greenback all the time we can."

            "But why?" Revolver asked, very confused. "What's left? What target could possibly remain here?"

            "Nothing," Gredam answered simply. "Nothing, Revolver, but only because it hasn't arrived yet."

            Tiberius was very surprised to learn that he was still alive.

            After the initial shock of that fact wore off, the chief medic shook his head a few dozen times to clear the numerous cobwebs and tried to sit up…a gesture that he aborted almost immediately when he realized that he was buried under a pile of rubble. With a grunt of dissatisfaction the Hunter converted his right fist into an arm cannon and pressed it against the piece of the wall that pinned him to the floor. He charged for a few seconds before shutting his eyes tight and firing.

            The wall parted down the middle and Tiberius pushed the halves apart, his face cut by the pieces of rock sent flying by his shot. The medic sat up successfully and fell into a fit of coughing that lasted a full minute. Then he stood and looked over himself. He was covered in soot and dust, and scratched up in more than one spot. Shaking his head he surveyed the medical ward. The damage wasn't quite so severe, though the north wall had caved in and crushed the bodies of Scythe's victims in the computer lab, who had been moved to the supposed safety of the medical ward where their corpses could be kept intact. So much for that, the medic thought sourly.

            "Tiberius…" a weak voice cried out.

            Tiberius immediately bent down to help Dr. Cain to his feet. Cain remarkably had held onto his walking stick, and though his body was slick with sweat he seemed otherwise all right…except for his eyes. They were wide and full of apprehension. "Tiberius, what was…?"

            "We were attacked," Tiberius said simply.

            "Oh, God," Cain whispered hoarsely. "Was it…?"

            "No, it wasn't a nuke," Tiberius responded forcefully. "If that had been a nuke we wouldn't be here now." He blinked at his mention of "we". "Damia! Y'dead?"

            Cain grimaced at the bluntness of Tiberius's inquiry, but it served its purpose. "Tiberius! Good to hear your voice!"

            "We can't find Cain!" Dr. Ledyard cried out from where Damia was.

            "That's because I'm over here!" the old man managed.

            Ledyard was quiet for a second. Then, "You decrepit asshole!"

            "Enough!" Damia snapped, moving towards the chief medic. "I think I just found Carlton."

            The Reploid Dr. Carlton was sprawled over the motionless forms of Krysta and Nightchaser. Apparently he'd shielded them with his own body, and had been hit hard with an I-beam for his troubles. "This sucks," Carlton said with no emotion whatsoever. "This sucks really, really bad."

            "Can you move?" Tiberius asked, kneeling down beside him.

            "Not until you get this thing off me!"

            Tiberius and Damia exchanged glances and began the process of lifting the I-beam off of the pinned doctor. "What about the wounded?" Tiberius asked.

            "They're fine," Carlton winced as he rubbed his sore back. "As they damn well better be. The chick is recovering and the other guy looks like he'll pull through."

            "Can we teleport yet?" Damia asked.

            "No," Tiberius replied after checking. "And Cain and Ledyard can't in any case. We have to go out the long way."

            "And can you carry them?" Cain motioned to Krysta and Chase.

            "Not for long," Tiberius said. "Especially since it's probably a warzone out there." He motioned to a cabinet that was miraculously still standing. "Sid, in there you'll find the counter for the tranquillizer we gave them. Let's inject them with that and carry them until they wake up. Then they can fend for themselves."

            "A bit crude, don't you think?" Cain asked with a raised eyebrow. "Asking the wounded to fend for themselves?"

            "In this case, doc," Tiberius responded, "what choice do we have?"

            All the Maverick Hunters had clustered in one spot now, hidden under a ruined highway road that might shelter them for the time being, but no one knew how long that might last.

            Signas was recovering from the shock of the moment, but his recovery was hastened by the fact that the Buzzbomb was not nuclear, and that Hunter HQ was still standing if not badly damaged. His hopes were dashed, however, by the sight of the Maverick forces closing in on the building's position.

            "Those sons of bitches," Alia hissed, next to Signas. "They kick us out and move in!"

            "Until Zion returns," Signas said quietly, "I don't think we have a choice."

            "And then what?" Alia persisted.

            "And then…" Signas frowned and shook his head. "Well, I suppose everything depends on what's happening in the air now." He looked up to where Tremont's Ravens were bombarding _Gallagher with what firepower they had. "Taggart should be back any second, and Zion won't be far behind him. Then…then I guess we fight for our lives. And our home," he added._

            Alia said nothing and returned to her crouching, sulking position. More than ever she wanted to run out there and kill as many Mavericks as she could. But she was no longer combat-ready, and could do nothing but advise from afar now. And so she started setting up the portable radio she'd taken with her, not knowing who she might have to work with but wanting the option to be available when the time came.

            Signas saw it and nodded. "That's it…don't give up yet. If they don't have their nukes, they don't have the ultimate edge."

            Alia had to frown at that. "I don't know, sir." She looked up at the floating menace on the horizon. "Somehow I have the feeling that those guys up there are just getting warmed up."

            Signas said nothing, turning away and reflecting on his own thoughts, or at least trying to. The truth was, he didn't really want to. That was because he was quite afraid of what he was thinking…

            He was afraid Alia was right.


	40. Positions

**Chapter 39: Positions**

"Vital signs for Godkarmachine have ceased," Diavus reported somberly. "I'm afraid our security officers are dead."

            "How many were there?" Commander Sigma hissed through his teeth.

            Diavus sweated and looked at his program, which had tracked the number of voices that had come up during the battle. "Excluding Bit and Byte, there were eight intruders. At least one of them is dead, and another one…" Diavus blinked. "I'm not sure it even corresponded with a body."

            "The one the brothers were talking about," Malevex suggested. "Ares."

            "Ares…" Sigma turned the name over on his tongue. It meant nothing to him, and that was plain in his eyes. Whoever or whatever this Ares was, Sigma had never heard of it. He of course knew the mythological background behind the name, but he seriously doubted he was dealing with an actual god of war, and therefore he dismissed it. "Well, that leaves six Hunters, one of whom is our good friend X." 

            "Come to save his buddy, you wager?" Mortar asked easily.

            Sigma just grunted and looked back to Diavus. "Do we know where they are now?"

            "Yes," Diavus replied after a moment. "The hidden cameras pick them up…well, look at this." He motioned to a monitor. The shorter Mortar had to step up to the monitor to see over Sigma and Malevex. "I've got this group here moving towards the freight elevator leading to the very lowest levels, but X doesn't seem to be with them."

            "Lovely," Teytha whispered despite herself.

            "They've split up," Malevex concluded easily, looking to Sigma. "I'll wager you this party's heading down to blow our foundation."

            "I wouldn't bet against you," Sigma responded with a slight nod. "It's an old trick. X slips in and mines the foundation, and then deals with the major enemies. Or, he has someone else mine the foundation while he kills off the major enemies, as seems to be the case here. Either way he's brought down many a building in his day." Sigma frowned. "What kind of security do we have down there?"

            "Mostly wall cannons and automated security bots," Malevex said apprehensively, and then brightened. "But we also have a little something we lifted from Gold Serpent. It's called AN-701, though we just call it the Android." Sigma's raised eyebrow told Malevex to elaborate. The ebon Maverick looked to Mortar, who was far more in tune with technical details.

            "The Android is about as tall as you, sir, only thinner," Mortar explained to Sigma. "Its entire body is composed of a white alloy resistant even to adaman bullets." That visibly impressed Sigma, but Mortar wasn't finished. "It attacks mostly through physical blows, though it is equipped with a chest cannon. However its program limits the use of the cannon to emergencies, since the chest cavity can be damaged when the cannon is activated."

            "Any other weaknesses?" Sigma inquired.

            "Well it's slow," Mortar admitted. "And kinda brainless, even for a drone. That has a nifty effect, though. Picture a big white soulless blank slowly stalking toward you that you can't blow up no matter how many times you shoot it. It has a certain terror value, if you will."

            "So it does," Sigma agreed with a smooth grin. "What would one have to do to destroy Seraph Castle's foundation?"

            Mortar took that one, too. "Probably they'd have to demolish the main support pillars on the lowest level possible. In Seraph Castle's case there are six pillars and all are well ingrained into the walls, but any skilled demolitions expert with a boxful of fireworks can change that. However it's a bit deceiving in this case, since the pillars are most vulnerable on the next to last floor, not the very bottom. A series of powerful explosions there would cause the upper floors to cave in on themselves."

            "Then that's where we'll focus our defenses," Sigma decided. "Where is Android now?"

            Mortar looked to Diavus, and he began to do a check, but another voice cut him off. "Android is on the proper floor, sir."

            Sigma turned his head to look at Cyber Peacock, sitting comfortably at his own monitor. "You think it will be enough?"

            "Doubtful," Peacock replied, shaking his feathery head slowly. "Very doubtful. The Hunters are a skilled bunch, they are. Android and a few wall cannons won't be able to handle them all. I suggest a team of our best soldiers on base. However," Peacock smiled mirthlessly. "That would grant X free roam of our base, would it not?"

            "Hm…" Sigma nodded. "X is going to be looking for this command chamber. He'll want to shut down the leaders of our little uprising." The Maverick King threw a sidelong glance at Malevex, Teytha and Mortar. "You will all need to watch your backs. This man is dangerous, more dangerous than any other Reploid out there…except maybe Zero, but Zero isn't going anywhere."

            "We can take care of ourselves," Teytha assured him, though fairly emotionlessly.

            Malevex was going to nod in turn but then he stopped, blinked, and rushed over to Diavus and his monitor. "Is that…are they…?"

            "No," Diavus shook his head. "No, that's not the right hangar. That ride armor is on a different elevator."

            "Good," Malevex said in relief. "I was afraid they were going to find our Weapon."

            "Not today," Sigma said confidently. "I've hidden that one very well. The Hunters won't find it, though Gredam might come calling for it soon enough. It's bound to be hectic where he is, and—"

            They all stopped to look at the data flowing in on Diavus's screen. Cyber Peacock was getting the same information, and his faster processor allowed him to come up with an analysis first.

            "We've lost contact with Split Mushroom in Brazil," Peacock announced blandly. "Looks like we don't have anyplace to fall back on."

            "Pity." Sigma's lack of emotion somewhat startled his subordinates. "What, did you really think Brazil would go without being found? That was just a decoy site. We've got another base waiting in Arabia, one of my properties that I haven't used yet. Part of me wonders if we shouldn't be on our way there now…"

            "Well the other part of you needs to make a decision," Peacock stated. "X is running around somewhere and we need our best units to handle him. On the other hand, equally powerful Hunters are trying to blow up our home. We've got to divide our forces somehow, sir."

            "Do we?" Sigma asked with a quizzical half-grin. "Tell me, Kujacker, what's on your mind?"

            "I propose we divide nothing," Peacock smiled back craftily. "Send everyone to the lower levels and butcher that Hunter party. We'll let X run around and waste his time up here, and then we'll evacuate all our soldiers. From there it's a clean break to Arabia, and we're done."

            "I like it," Sigma said cautiously. "But if only it were that simple. X works fast…very fast, and doubly so if he manages to free Zero somehow. We need to isolate them, or at least stall them, and for that…" He looked up at the Terrornova assassins. "Do you understand? The mission is to stall. Don't get yourselves killed off fighting an impossible battle. Keep him busy as long as you can and then beat it." All three nodded, not letting any of their apprehensions appear on their faces. Sigma looked to Peacock. "Cyber, I need you to keep guarding the Spare. Once we're ready, take it and warp away."

            "But what about the Hunters down below?" the bird protested.

            At that moment the door whooshed open and a patrol of four Mavericks entered the room. Only two were familiar to Malevex, who stepped forward to address them. One was a short but well-armed and well-armored cricket Maverick—it was Loader, the one from the Sub-City 3 ambush. Another was a female white tiger with a serrated energy blade at her side—Kismet, another Sub-City 3 soldier, out to avenge her friend Fang. One of the other two was a raccoon Maverick carrying a nasty looking rifle.

            "Who are you?" Malevex asked.

            "Gerritt, sir," the Maverick replied.

            "He survived an attack on our radar posts," Teytha explained. "Even downed an enemy commander, I think."

            "Hmm." Malevex nodded at Gerritt and looked to the fourth, a short Reploid in blazing red and orange armor. "And you?"

            "Arson," he explained. "We were summoned."

            "I did it," Diavus explained. "These are all the ones that responded to the call."

            "Great," Peacock shook his head. "This is your counterforce?"

            Malevex paused for a minute, and then looked to Diavus. "You have your rifle?"

            "Yeah," Diavus acknowledged nervously. "You want me to go with them?"

            "I want you to lead them," Malevex elaborated.

            "For most of it, at least," Sigma interjected mysteriously. Then he explained with a cold smile. "I see no point in saving myself for X. I'll go with you, Diavus, Gerritt, Loader, Kismet. Arson…you stay behind, actually. Help out whoever's guarding this control room." Sigma strolled to the exit doors. "Head downstairs, the four of you! I'm going to check on the Weapon, and then I'll be right there with you. There, Peacock, is a counterforce!"

            "I see, sir," Cyber Peacock said with a smile, standing. "Then I will return to my chambers and guard the Spare until the time comes to flee. If you need me, you know where to find me." That said, bands of neon light enveloped the Maverick, and he slowly shimmered out of existence, teleporting to his private chambers.

            "Come on!" Sigma said, at the door. Kismet, Loader, Gerritt, and Diavus exchanged glances and hoisted their weapons, filing out of the room full of apprehension. Sigma then turned to his Team and for once didn't know what to say. "Be strong now," he said finally. "The humans thought it your fate to die, but I believe you can break the chains of that fate. We all can." With that he turned slowly and marched out of the room, leaving a strange quiet behind him.

            Malevex at length turned to Arson and waved him to sit down at Peacock's former spot. Then he walked out of the room with Mortar and Teytha, and they looked down the only hallway. It was wide and full of shadows. A good place for an ambush, they all thought…

            "Well…" Mortar finally began. "I'll take the first ring."

            "Why?" Teytha asked instantly. "Why not just all attack together? Even X wouldn't be a match!"

            "That's what we said about Chartreuse," Mortar pointed out gingerly. "Besides…our job is to stall, not kill…which is about what we'd be doing anyway."

            Malevex nodded slowly. "Are you sure, then?"

            Mortar smiled. "I'm not sure where X will pop up, but the first ring has the strongest defenses and they need someone unflappable to keep them in line." He grinned at their reaction to that. "Besides. You're technically still the base defense commander, Vexy. This control room is your responsibility. Hide in the shadows," Mortar suggested. "Strike from there."

            "Yeah," Teytha agreed quietly. "We're assassins, not duelists. We're not going to go all out, but…if we have the chance to kill X, why not?"

            "Be careful," Malevex cautioned instantly. "For Christ's sake, I don't need either of you dying on me now."

            "And that goes double for you," Mortar said, poking Malevex in the chest. "Though you've taken care of yourself these past years…shit still happens."

            "We'll be careful," Teytha said for them both.

            Mortar smiled, nodded, and started off with a spring in his step. He turned and grinned back at his comrades. "We going to Arabia or something?"

            "I don't…I don't know," Malevex admitted. "I guess we are, if things don't go completely to hell."

            "And if they do?" Mortar prodded.

            "Just run into the mountains and hide under a great big rock," Malevex suggested. "It's the best I can think of."

            Mortar chewed on this and nodded again. "I'll see you soon enough, then." And he turned and was gone.

            There was no chill of dread that passed down either of their spines at seeing the old man go off to fight the big blue dragon. He'd be back. He'd left no question of that. Teytha turned to Malevex with a tiny smile and lowered her eyes to her boots. "Guess I'll take the second ring, then."

            "You don't have to go." He had to try, after all, being unable to conquer the protectiveness he felt towards her.

            She shook her head slowly. "No. Mortar and Gredam are doing their part…and you're doing yours. I have to pull my own weight."

            "You say that like you never have."

            "Heh. I've never been quite as…gung ho as you are, towards all this."

            "That's not a bad thing at all," he said, brushing her hair out of her face. "There's not much good to being a killer. Even if we think it's justified."

            She nodded, and then looked up at him. "I'll come back."

            "You had better," he replied, smiling and brushing a thumb over her cheek. "It'd blow ass to lose you now."

            "Lord, you're irreverent!" she laughed. There was another damned awkward pause, but they both conquered it and kissed again. Their embrace lasted almost a full minute, during which they drew enough strength from each other that old fires were rekindled. The thrill that came with the concept of a free life was back before them, and all that stood in their way was this tiny obstacle.

            "Stay sharp," she said after they reluctantly broke the embrace.

            "Happy hunting," he said, smiling at the irony of the term. Teytha left with the same vigor Mortar had, leaving Malevex with similar energy. He was ready now. Let X come. The blue bastard would never see it coming, not from these shadows…and Malevex had long ago mastered the use of shadows.

            The ebon Maverick turned to see Arson standing in the doorway, a bit embarrassed and expecting some kind of reprimand for watching lord knew how much of the previous scene.

            "The Hunters have reached the freight elevator," Arson said uneasily.

            "Good," Malevex said with too casual a smile for Arson's liking. "Go on and tell Diavus's party to use the northern elevator. Give me a minute and I'll see that Android is up and running." He stepped past Arson and made for the monitor. "Well what are you waiting for?" Arson was still standing there staring uneasily. Malevex grinned lopsidedly. "One day you'll understand, kid."

            Delates was a capable sniper, but he'd never fancied himself much of a spook. While certainly adequate at stealth maneuvering, he would never be capable of this ninja shit Acrystos was pulling off before his eyes. Delates and Acrystos had run ahead of the other three to do some scouting, and the acting Unit 0 commander was starting to feel quite inferior.

            "Not all that nimble for an elite," Acrystos chided, and her whisper was the only part of her that made a sound as she glided down the dark hallway in silence.

            "Not all that humble for a…a…common soldier," Delates chided back, sort of.

            Acrystos gave him a low snicker in reply. "You're just acting commander. Once Zero comes back you're back to the common ranks."

            "Of the elite," he pointed out with a wicked grin. He was no longer really worried about cameras—they were there, he was sure, but they were hidden in the walls and thus there was nothing he could do about it. There also did not seem to be any security around this area. "Tell me, Madam Aegis, this place remind you of anywhere else?"

            Acrystos chewed on that one for a while. "The closest thing would be a warehouse during the Repliforce War. Castle and I had to do some recon."

            "Ah yes, the Dynamic Duo," Delates said offhandedly. "You guys really as inseparable as they say?"

            "I'm here now, ain't I?" She turned her head back and grinned through the shadows. "And I'll remember that next time I catch you flirting with Damia…who happens to be a _Commander_, you miserable commoner!"  
            "Hey now!" Delates was grateful that the shadows covered his blush. "I never said—Acrystos, get DOWN!"

            She didn't wait, and flattened herself on the floor a second after Delates did, and not a second too late. A spray of machine gun fire flew overhead, slamming into the wall.

            "Drone guns," Acrystos realized after doing a quick infrared scan of the area ahead. Delates did the same scan, locating the two guns, one on each wall. They seemed to lock onto movement, and Acrystos played on this, crawling silently through the shadows closer to the targets. She knocked twice on the floor, and then snapped to her feet while raising a machine pistol and firing a spray of lasers, turning the drone gun on the right wall to scrap.

            Delates had converted his arm to a cannon as soon as he'd hit the floor, and when he heard Acrystos tap the ground in a signal to attack he leapt up and loosed two shots at the left gun, disabling it. He and Acrystos pivoted, looking for other threats but finding none. Acrystos went forward and quickly found what the drone guns were guarding. "What do we have?" Delates asked, his cannon still smoking.

            "Looks like a freight elevator," Acrystos announced after a brief inspection. She activated her wrist communicator and called up Tyclammel. "Looks like we're going down."

            Diavus, Kismet, Gerritt, and Loader moved together down the vacant halls of Seraph Castle. Along the way they passed very few Maverick guards, but those they found were quite eager to join the crowd, seeing safety in numbers. By the time they neared the third ring's elevator, they had a party of eight Mavericks.

            "With Sigma at our side this should be child's play," Diavus thought aloud.

            "That so?" Kismet said frostily, tossing her head full of white hair. "Exactly where is the great Sigma now?"

            "Suppose he doesn't show up?" the nervous Gerritt fretted.

            "Shut up, both of you," the cricket named Loader grumbled. "Sigma said he'd be there and he will be there, when we need him. There's eight of us here, that should be enough."

            "Let's hope," Kismet snorted. "These aren't going to be pushovers we're fighting. You all take care of yourselves?"

            "I was capping targets long before you were a schematic in your father's brain cell," Diavus said simply.

            "First off, I don't have a father," Kismet retorted. "And second—"

            "Who cares?" Loader said with a shake of his head. "We can all take care of ourselves. I don't want to hear any bickering. It annoys me."

            "Look," Diavus said, taking charge as he stepped onto the elevator. "Our goal is simple enough, but we can't stab the enemy if we're too busy stabbing ourselves, all right? There's this Android machine sitting on our target floor, so we'll let it draw their attention. Then we'll launch a surprise attack."

            "Now see?" Loader chided. "That wasn't hard, was it?"

            "I can do one better," Diavus continued with a grin. What do you say we stop by the garage on the first ring? There's some ride armors left over that will be plenty useful to our cause. No better way to a job than to do it in style…wouldn't you say?"

            X had been wandering down hallways for what seemed like forever, and now, his internal map told him, he was heading down the long, ascending hallway that would take him right to the middle of the second ring. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to go after that. His "map" wasn't really a map of the place he was now—it was a map of Seraph Castle drafted _before _Seraph Company sold it unwittingly to Sigma. These halls had been added by the Mavericks, and the directions X was relying on were general guesses; he knew based on elevation that he was heading to the castle's second ring, and assuming this hallway ended where X thought it did, he'd be emerging into the mapped portion of Seraph Castle very soon. The problem was, where did he go after that? He had no idea where Zero would be kept, or where the Mavericks would be hiding out. He was here to rescue Zero and eliminate the Maverick commanders, and he didn't know where any of them were. Sure, there was probably a command center of some sort on the upper rings, but given what X knew of these Maverick bosses they would be spread out throughout the castle, maintaining defenses on the spot rather than sitting in a control room. He remembered their names easily enough: Gredam, Teytha, and Malevex. Three targets. There was also that Mortar guy, but X didn't know if he was here or not. Three, perhaps four targets, plus the objective of freeing Zero, and X could have Delates destroy the castle and they could all go home to stop that airship.

            The hallway was just leveling off when all the already dim lights went out. X blinked once in the utter darkness before turning on his infrared sensors…

            …Just in time to see twin small mechaniloid tanks rush down the hall towards him.

            _Guardians,_ X realized, but he should he able to handle them easily enough. The Hunter leapt into the air just as the enemies rushed underneath him, firing his cannon downward and hitting a turret. X landed and spun around, noting the damaged turret starting to turn. He fired again, and the mechanism shorted out, but the second tank had redirected itself and sent a blazing red bolt of plasma X's way. Startled, the Hunter threw himself down to the floor and let the projectile pass overhead. Then, from the ground, he charged his cannon to level 2 and loosed the blast, which resembled a thick green thunderbolt. It slammed into the turret and destroyed it.

            Smug, X prepared to get back to his feet…just as he noticed that the first tank was now speeding his way, and he was about to be crushed under the treads. X's jumped into the air and his dash boots flared to life. He sped over the machine and touched down…just as the second tank moved his way. Acting insanely quickly, X pressed himself back against the wall and a heartbeat later spun himself like a top to the hard left, letting the mechaniloid slam into the wall. Once he had his distance, the Hunter's armor shifted colors and he fired a ball of energies that fell right to the floor. It took the form of a miniature stingray, and sped towards the recovering tank. The Ground Hunter tore into and clear through the treads, leaving one of the two guardians stationary. The other tank was coming back at X, who just fired another Ground Hunter that stopped the tank right next to its comrade.

            Smug again, X prepared to turn around and head up to the gate ahead of him. Then he heard a sharp clicking sound. He turned back to see…both tanks had sprouted two "arms" which were really machine guns. They came to life with a whir and a hum, and fixed themselves on X.

            Smug no longer, X turned and ran his ass down the hall as a fury of lasers pelted the area behind him. A few shots stung him in the back, and he realized he'd never outrun these shots. His armor reverted to its normal coloration and his cannon began charging to the maximum level. Halfway to his destination, X finally turned and pointed his cannon back the way he had come. He could still see his targets…two big infrared blobs in the distance. He fired his shot, and the whole room blazed with wild white light as a gigantic glob of plasma ripped down the hall, incinerating everything in its path including the two tank mechaniloids. When it was over all that was left were two shimmering orbs of dissipating energy where the plasma had struck its targets.

            Smug for good reason, X turned and entered the gateway without being harassed.

            When the gate closed X shut off his infrared sensors, because he was now in a hallway considerably brighter than the labyrinth he had just emerged from. It took him a while to adjust, and then he checked his map, confirming that he was now inside the second "ring" of Seraph Castle. The décor was very cold and metallic, with very little color other than silver and gray. The hall was empty, but there was something coming…sounded like…footsteps. There were at least two people, X noted. Playing on a hunch, he flattened himself against the shadiest portion of the wall he could find, right by a corner. Whoever was coming would walk right past him…he hoped.

            "I'm tellin' ya, Surge," a nervous male voice piped up. "We should get in a group for this."

            "Nonsense, Vastor!" a more confident man countered, his voice growing larger as he approached. "There's two of us and we know how to take care of ourselves. All we have to do is wait until we find a straggler, and then we pick him off. The Hunters are bound to split up."

            "But what if the Hunter we find is really powerful?" Vastor persisted.

            "Pshht!" Surge blew it off. "I don't care how powerful a guy is—ain't no one who can do anything about a shot from behind. Now stop being such a baby!"

            "But you don't shoot," Vastor pointed out. "All you got is that sword of yours."

            "It's a damn powerful sword!" Surge insisted. "And I can charge it to make it do all sorts of things. Don't you worry, Vastor. How long have we been friends, huh? When have I ever been wrong about things like this? I'm the sharpest, cleverest, most attentive tracker the Mavericks have on their forces!" Surge asserted, walking right past the stone still X, who was fighting to keep a smile off his face and thus twitch.  
            "I just hope you know what you're doing, is all," Vastor said, glancing around nervously. "After all the shit we've been through, it'd suck to get wasted now."

            "Don't worry, Vastor. No one gets the drop on old Surge here!"

            No sooner had he finished his sentence than the telltale whine of a charging buster came from behind the two humanoids. Both of them froze.

            "S…Surge!" Vastor stammered. "That's…that's a…"

            "Buster," X finished, trying not to laugh, because this was like holding up a Christmas tree: Vastor was a short, bright red Reploid and Surge was taller, and deep green. "Sorry, Surge, but no matter how powerful one is, ain't no one who can do anything about a shot from behind."

            Both Mavericks whirled around at the same time.

            "Holy Jesus Christ!" Vastor gasped. "It's X! Oh shit, I feel sick…"

            "Daa….da da…daaa…" the slack jawed Surge emitted, his legs wobbling.

            "Here's the deal," X explained, his armor flashing like glitter as the light from his charging buster danced maliciously over the surface of his shiny alabaster Fourth Armor. "You two seem like nice gents, by which I mean you're stupid. And since most stupid people aren't really evil and just need a few brain cells to call their own, I might let you two wander off on your merry little way. _If_ you tell me what I want to know."

            "We'll tell ya!" Vastor promised, nodding his head vigorously with a stupid, gaping, nervous smile. "We'll tell ya anything we know! Right, Surge? Tell him. Go on. Surge? SURGE!"

            "Da…daaaa…."

            "Cat's got his tongue, I guess." X smiled thinly. "Where are your bosses?"

            Vastor blinked. "Our…bosses?"

            "Terrornova, dimwit." Vastor's face was still blank. X sighed. "Gredam. Malevex. Teytha. Where are they?"

            "Gredam…Gredam's gone," Vastor managed. "He's on that airship…with Gravity and Storm."

            "Gravity and…you mean Gravity Beetle and Storm Eagle?"

            "Yeah, them!" Vastor was nodding like a fool again. "And the others…and the others…" His world was spinning. He threw out an arm behind him…down the hall leading back to the first ring, but first to a large guarded chamber. "The…the bird is there!"

            "The bird?" X blinked. "Who's that?"

            "You know!" Vastor asserted strongly, waving his fingers as if that would help X understand. "The bird! The…the…Captain Feathers! You know?! Flap flap!!! No wait, he doesn't flap…not this one. Go on, Surge, tell 'em who I mean!"

            "Daaaaaaa…."

            "What in the hell are you two talking about—" Then it hit him. The bird…not Storm Eagle, but the bane of the Maverick Hunter security…

            _Kujacker!_

            "Cyber Peacock," X said aloud.

            "Yeah! Him!" Vastor was nodding again. "He waltzed into that first room down there like he owned the place! Come to think of it, I think he does."

            "Peacock's lair," X whispered to himself. "And just like that, I have another target." He jerked his cannon at Vastor. "What about the others?"

            "What others?"

            "Malevex! Teytha!"

            "Oh, right! Shadow Warlock and Speed Witch! They're…well I don't know where they are."

            "Wrong answer," X said darkly, and his cannon hummed louder. 

"Tell him!" Vastor shouted. "TELL HIM, SURGE!"

            "DAAA!!!" Surge's legs finally gave out and he landed hard on his rump, though the impact did little to jar his senses.

            "I swear! Please!" Vastor pleaded. "Don't kill us, we have turtles, and they neeeeed ussss!"

            "You WHAT?" X lowered his cannon, his face twisted with confusion.

            "Turtles! You know!" Vastor was gesturing blindly, his eyes rolling like marbles. "We feed 'em, and they're happy, and they play, and they're our pets and if we die no one will feed them and they'll die and get all shriveled and birds will come and eat them out of their shells and leave their ruined bodies for the necromancers to revive and combine with furless weasels and then it's allllll ovverrr! YOU CAN'T!" He pointed at X's lowered cannon. "Mr. Wormwood and Sarah! They need us!"

            "Mr. Wormwood and…" He just shook his head. X's cannon deactivated just as Vastor joined his friend sprawled out on the floor. "All right. You two have been fine gentleman, by which I REALLY mean stupid, and I'm gonna let you go on the condition that you find a psychologist with a very long last name and lots of fancy degrees and awards, cause _damn._" X walked forward past the two shaking Mavericks. Surge was still staring blankly ahead and Vastor's eyes were following X's every move. As soon as the Hunter passed the clouds in both Maverick's eyes blew away and they sat there blinking for a few seconds. Then they turned, looked at each other, jumped to their feet, and ran screaming in the direction opposite X, towards the chamber guarding entrance to the third ring.

            The images displayed themselves on a large computer monitor, and finally focused on the lone Hunter X, walking down the hall towards the large guarded chamber. One Maverick watched the show, sitting comfortably in a thin chair built to accommodate his thin body.

            Cyber Peacock smiled a beaky smile and rose to his feet. At long last, his moment was coming.

            The Maverick's tail feathers were all bunched at the top in what looked like one single green curved blade rising up from the Maverick's back. The rest of him was pretty much the same as it had always been, except for one glaring difference: the armor. While Peacock still had the same build as before, the armor was much more sharp and was in many areas black instead of the colorful purple/green combination he'd chosen in the past. The black ran in a V shape up from his waist around his shoulder epaulets, which still held their original form but were now black and purple with gold trimmings…the whole black V was lined with gold. Gemstones of various colors adorned the armor. Peacock had always been a fan of color. All in all, he looked like one threatening bird.

            The room around him was a curious one. The walls were hollowed at the middle, creating a spherical room. Everything was a dull red color, and all around the room were green orbs lodged in the walls. Only Peacock really knew their significance. Everything in the room, except for the mainframe he used to monitor events throughout the base, was a part of his new strategy.

            The room was one big holography chamber.

            Cyber Peacock rested his hands on his hips and gazed lazily about his chamber. For years he'd waited for a moment like this, a moment where he could once more confront Megaman X and pay him back for the undignified death the Hunter had given the Maverick in the realms of cyberspace years ago. Peacock knew full well and from experience that X could not be defeated even with Peacock's ordinarily mysterious abilities. But mystery was all the bird had going for him. He wasn't built to be a bruiser, and while he had very advanced weaponry now, he didn't want to take any chances. No, there was only one way to defeat X with surprise…and that was by overwhelming him.

            And that was precisely what he would do, Peacock thought as he glanced at the green orbs in the wall. X wouldn't know which way was up by the time Peacock got done with him. And that cheap Soul Body trick wouldn't work this time.

            **"Don't get too cocky."**

The voice resonated from somewhere within Peacock's chest cavity, and actually produced noise throughout the room. It was a powerful baritone.

            "You don't have to remind me, Ares." Peacock sniffed. "I've learned from my mistakes."

            **"Let's hope. Those friends of yours turned out to be utterly useless."**

"If you mean Bit and Byte, they were no friends of mine. I just happened to work with them."

            **"Nevertheless, Kujacker, I will be most disappointed if all my efforts with you were for naught."**

"You have four other Mavericks at your disposal already," Peacock pointed out. "Why not have them all come at the Hunters at once?"

            **"Their time will come. But you have already chosen your mission—I merely helped you find the means."**

"Are you ever going to tell me why?" Peacock asked, curious.

            Ares was quiet for a while before answering. **"Call it curiosity. I want to see how one of my agents stands up against the most powerful Reploid of our time. I increased the program speeds of those other two Mavericks, but they weren't equipped with my armor."**

"Of course not. To get your armor, one has to go to your base, and they didn't exactly have time."

            **"No, they did not, and thus they died. But you…you are a different story. Your attacks are much different now, Kujacker…and your strategy, I must say, is very clever. Yes…I am very curious indeed. Just don't get cocky. Too many have done so before this one, and they have all perished."**

"And why should you care if I live or die?" Peacock asked pointedly. "Aren't I just another pawn?"

            **"I have no pawns!"** Ares fairly bellowed. **"All who work for me do so by choice. And they are well rewarded for their troubles, as you already know well. And at any rate…the time is coming, Kujacker, when I will call upon all my agents for a grand mission. We must keep the world heading down the path of war…only then am I truly alive."**

"And if I should win?" The side of the bird's beak turned up in a strange smile. "If I defeat X, will you extend any invitations to him?"

            Again, there was silence. When Ares did speak his words were laced with a heartless malice and a threatening rumble that put even the arrogant Cyber Peacock in his place. **"I am the face of war. He is the face of peace. We cannot coexist, ever. He must die. And you must do it," **Ares said, very directly.

            "I see," Peacock whispered. "Yes…if you are to succeed then X cannot be allowed to live…" He straightened and looked towards his chamber's gate. "You won't have to worry, boss," he said with that twisted grin returning. "There's no way he'll escape me this time."

            "Don't worry, boss. There's no way he'll escape us this time."

            Mortar nodded at the three surly lizard Mavericks standing before him. They looked like lizard-men, bulky with muscle and with sharp claws and menacing teeth. All were from a ghetto in Steel Alley, and were generally recognized among the Seraph Castle Mavericks as the most ruthless grunts in employment. Now all three of them stood with Mortar in the large, rectangular chamber at the end of the first ring, guarding access to the second. The three reptilians left through the hissing gate, positioning themselves in the shadows near the large room directly past Mortar's chamber. The way Mortar figured it, X was already inside the central portions of the castle, and if he came for Mortar at all it would be by backtracking through the second ring to the first. Therefore, by positioning the brutal reptilians in ambush positions outside the room Mortar would…soften X up for the main event.

            "Yo," the old Reploid said into his wrist communicator. "Mortar in position."

            "X just destroyed two guard mechaniloids in the area leading into the second ring from Revolver's garage," Malevex updated him from the control room. "I don't know which way he's going, but if he's headed your way he'll be pretty tired. Cyber Peacock is waiting in the chamber nearest to the garage."

            "I've got a few surprises waiting for him before he enters my abode," Mortar informed his comrade. The aged Reploid smiled a wily smile and glanced off into the shadows, where his trump card was hidden. "And should he make it this far, I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve."

            "Don't press your luck," Malevex cautioned, almost in a monotone.

            "Be listening for my call," Mortar responded, very serious now. "If by some chance I can't contain that son of a bitch and can't get away from him…you and Teytha need to get the hell out of this base, and Arabia be damned."

            "Let's not even consider that an option. It's not worth anything to join all the others who died fighting X, for any reason."

            "We'll see, won't we? Take care, Malevex. Mortar out."

            Unlike Mortar, Teytha had no fellow Mavericks in her chamber waiting for orders. The lithe girl entered in the shadows and remained in the shadows—the entire smallish square room was lit only by a single dim bulb on the ceiling. She immediately headed for one of the corners. She left her two sabers unignited but in her hands. There would be no duel waiting for anyone who entered this chamber…only a quick, sudden, and very unfair killing strike. If that failed she figured she could win if she closed in on X…he was a distance fighter, wasn't he? And she moved fast enough that his martial skills would have trouble hitting her. Still, she had no delusions about a fight to the death under any circumstances, unless X was the one doing the dying.

            "I'm ready and waiting," she said to Malevex via wrist-com.

            "X last showed himself in the hallway leading into the second ring," Malevex informed her. "I've already told Mortar, but he's in a better position. If X heads south he'll cross Peacock before Mortar, and Kujacker's no pushover."

            "I always thought that was a stupid name," Teytha opined.

            "Our names aren't what you'd call normal," he responded with the smallest of smiles in his voice. "If X comes north, you know what to do."

            "Strike fast, strike hard, and if I miss, run like hell. I've done it enough in the past."

            She could clearly picture his wince at the other end. "That's ending. We'll make it end."

            "You bet." She smiled with determination. "We'll bury the past here, in X's grave."

            And so, all the pieces were put into place and the gears started moving, with all the key players ready for the action that awaited them. Well…almost all of them.

            There really was nothing worse in the world, Zero decided, than wandering through a Maverick base while completely unarmed. The crimson Hunter hadn't had a chance to download a map of Seraph Castle into his systems, so he didn't know that his prison cell was located near the end of Seraph Castle's second ring. He was now creeping cautiously down the hallways, not really sure where he was going or what he intended to do…well, he sort of did. He wanted to stop Sigma, and that meant getting a weapon. However the hallways were quite scarce of Mavericks with stuff to swipe.

            The Hunter stopped in his tracks when he saw, to his right, a very large ventilation shaft near the ceiling. The idea was crazy, said Logic, but the more he thought about it he'd want to stay out of sight until he found something to cut people up with. Plus, who knew? Maybe the shaft would be an easy way up to the control room where he figured Sigma would be hiding. The Hunter leapt into the air, his dash boots flaring underneath him and propelling him clear to the ceiling. He grabbed the bars of the shaft and latched onto the wall below it. He dislodged the bars with a minimal effort and began the slow, clumsy process of crawling inside. No sooner had he done this and crawled forward when he hit a wall. He felt above him in the darkness to find…nothing. So he stood up. Not only could he stand at his full considerable height, but also there was plenty of room to turn around. Cool.

            That's when he first heard them.

            "I told you!" a nervous voice piped up. "I told you it was a bad idea! I told you we should have found a group first!"

            "Shut up! We handled it, didn't we?"

            Zero turned around and crept down back into the vent, crawling slowly back the way he came.

            "But what now, Surge?" the nervous one was saying, coming closer. "I mean, we already pressed our luck once, and it didn't go so good."

            "What are you talking about, Vastor?" Surge said with a laugh that struck Zero as only partially confident. "We handled it, didn't we?"

            "We did not! You stood there and gawked while I did all the talking!"

            "And what talking it was! You, my friend, are a natural."

            Zero felt a smirk creep over his face. He crawled back to the front of the shaft. When he peered outside he saw, rounding the corner, a short red humanoid followed by a taller green one. The little one, Vastor, was shaking his head and looked like he was getting over hyperventilation. The taller one, Surge, was catching his breath, but appeared cocky enough. In short, Zero knew he could wipe the floor with them, weaponless or otherwise. Perhaps he had found his guides.

            "I tell ya, Surge," Vastor was saying. "You sure play some of these really close."

            "Well I was right, wasn't I?" Surge said proudly. "You never let the other guy get in a shot from behind. We'll never make THAT mistake again."

            "Excuse me," a new voice broke into their conversation. "I seem to have lost my way."

            "Yeah, you and us both, pal," Surge said without turning around. "Where you goin?"

            "Well I'm trying to find out where Commander Sigma is."

            "What? What business would you have with SIGMA?" Vastor did turn around. Then he froze. "Oh."

            "Daaa…" Surge was saying.

            "So if you don't mind," Zero said, grinning, his hands clasped politely behind his back, "point me in the right direction."

            "Jesus," Vastor stammered. "Jesus, I can't believe you…escaped!"

            "Escaped?" That brought Surge back to life. "Oh yeah!" The Maverick's eyes narrowed. "We caught you!"

            "And we can all see how well that worked out," Zero said, still polite, though taking a menacing step forwards. "Now tell me. Where is Sigma? And come to think of it, where are your happy fun time battle instructors? Those assassins? I'd like to speak at them, while I'm at it."

            "Don't tell him, Vastor!" Surge barked, cutting his friend off. Vastor looked at him incredulously, and the look just got even more incredulous as Surge ignited his green lightsaber. "He's unarmed! Now's our chance to really hit it big!"

            "Surge!" Vastor shouted, too late. Surge dashed forward, sword poised to strike.

            "Feck," Zero murmured, sidestepping the attack. Surge growled and sliced hard to the side. Zero leapt back, right into the wall. Grinning, Surge stepped forward to impale the Hunter, but Zero slipped nimbly out of range and let the Maverick stab the sword into the wall. Surge angrily tore the weapon free, but by the time he accomplished this Zero's hand was already clasped onto Surge's right forearm. With a great heave Zero threw Surge across the room clear into the other wall.

            "Damn you!" Surge moaned, getting to his feet. Then he glared at Vastor. "For god's sake, DO something!"

            But it was Vastor's turn to stare blankly for this encounter. He wasn't budging. Nevertheless it distracted Zero's attention long enough for Surge to spring back into action, swinging hard at Zero's neck. The Hunter, wide-eyed, dropped to his knees, narrowly avoiding decapitation. At the same time his dash boots flared and he rocketed into Surge's legs, spilling the Maverick hard onto the floor.

            Zero and Surge both got halfway to their feet. Then Surge struck again, swinging forcefully but awkwardly, and Zero, acting quickly, caught his sword arm's wrist. Both of them struggled against each other, and since both of their bodies were so badly twisted around, neither could move their other arm into position.

            "FOR THE LOVE OF SERVOS, MAN!" Surge almost shrieked. "SHOOT HIM!"

            Vastor considered it, but Zero shot him a look that plainly said, "I dare you." Surge tried to take advantage of the distraction by twisting his body around so his other arm would be in play. Sensing this, Zero pulled his feet under him, getting into a squatting position. Then his dash boots flared again, much to Surge's horror, and the Hunter shot into the air dragging the Maverick up by his arm. The saber, pointing up, lodged itself in the ceiling. While Surge was still recovering from the shock, Zero elbowed him in the face, completely disorienting him. All that was left was for Zero to bring his right boot forward in a brutal kick that knocked Surge off him and down to the floor.

            "Nice sword!" Zero commented, still above the Reploid. "I wonder if it can withstand my power, though?"

            "What are you talking about?" asked a thoroughly cowed Surge.

            "Let's find out," Zero answered, ripping the sword from the ceiling and holding it out in front of him as he fell. "Hyouretszuan!" he cried, and ice encased the sword, creating a powerful lance that Zero drove hard into the floor. The particles shattered and sprayed all over Surge…who was laying not six inches away from where the blade had touched home. Grinning at the horrified Maverick, Zero jumped twice in the air and swung his sword in arcs. The blade glowed yellow and extended somewhat. Zero landed and nodded at his new weapon, deactivating it and sheathing it on his back where his old saber had been. "Yep. Works just fine."

            "That's mine!" Surge protested weakly.

            "And I thank you most profusely for your generous gift." Zero gave him a mock bow and turned to Vastor. "And were it not for your little friend being such a gentleman and letting us keep the battle to ourselves, I'd try out my new doohicky on you right now." He tipped an imaginary hat at Vastor, who nodded dumbly. "Though I still have a question that needs to be answered." His eyes hardened. "Sigma. Malevex. Teytha. Mortar. Where are they?"

            "Gredam's gone," Vastor offered weakly.

            "Gredam's on the ship. They told me that."

            "They told you?" Surge asked, shocked.

            "They told me a lot," Zero responded, walking with an eerie calmness towards Surge, who still lay stunned on the floor. "And now I want you to start telling me a lot."

            "We don't know where they are exactly! Okay?!" Surge was panicking now.

            "The control room is upstairs!" Vastor tried. "Just go that way—" he pointed towards the end of the second ring. Zero could even see the gate in the distance. "And keep going. You'll get there eventually. I don't know who you'll find on the way, if anyone, but that's all we know! We swear!"

            "How do I know you're telling the truth?" Zero asked, calmly scratching the back of his neck, placing his hand much to close to his lightsaber for Vastor's comfort. The Maverick shuddered and finally broke down.

            "Don't kill us Mr. Zero, don't, for Mr. Wormwood's sake!"

            "And Sarah!" Surge put in. "You can't do that to the turtles!"

            Zero blinked. "Mr. Wormwood and…" He shook his head. "All right. I've had enough. You two…scram. I've got no beef with you. Sure you tried to kill me, but I figure robbing you blind compensates for that. But if I ever catch you making trouble again, you'll catch it! Mr. Wormwood and Sarah be damned!" They groveled in submission. Zero could barely believe it. "Now GO! I can't stand this whole…stupidity thing you've got going for you. Matter of fact, find some shrink with a—"

            "A very long name and lots of degrees," Vastor finished, nodding his head rapidly, like a retard. "We know."

            "You know…" Zero blinked again. "Oh just go." And go they did, racing like stock cars down the hallway from which they had just fled. Zero shook his head yet again and started a calm, pointed walk towards the gate leading to the third ring. At least he had a weapon now, he thought, approaching the purple doorway.

            Then by some impulse he looked up, and saw…yes, there it was. The ventilation shaft…it ran up along this roof, and into…could it possibly lead into…?

            "Well what's life without a little adventure?" the Crimson Hunter thought to himself, backtracking with much spring in his step. There was something about having weapons in his possession that made Zero happy as could be. He arrived back at the vent where he'd gotten the drop on Surge and Vastor earlier and propelled himself back up. When he finally wriggled himself in again he crawled forward until he bonked his head on the end of the horizontal shaft and had to stand up in the vertical one. Zero raised his arms to try to find the top, but even with his reach he couldn't find it. So, his boots flared again and up he went, moving his arms in the blackness to search for—

            "DAMMIT!" the Hunter raged after slamming headfirst hard into the shaft's ceiling. His arms immediately began flailing as he began falling, and though he was seeing stars it didn't interfere much, as there wasn't anything else to see anyway. By some miracle he found a ledge leading into the upper horizontal shafts. He tried to reorient himself and remember what direction he was supposed to go in. He remembered that the last time he'd checked his compass it had been going towards the gate, and he'd been going north. He checked his compass again, found north, and started crawling through the shaft leading in that direction.

            As he crawled, he reflected on how much it would suck if this shaft didn't lead into that second ring guardian chamber. That would mean a very long backtrack process, and Zero had a feeling he was being pressed for time as it was. Then again, if he DID find a way into that chamber…

            Well, whoever was inside would have a big surprise.

            Of course, Zero reminded himself, this wasn't about killing. Well it was, if Sigma was sitting in there, but somehow Zero doubted that. What would he do, though, if it were someone else? Could he really bring himself to kill—

            "Might not have a choice, pal," he whispered to himself, forgetting to feel foolish. "You can do what you can, but if the going gets tough…well, the less tough start dying. There's never been a way around it. And I'm damned because of it." He growled deep in his throat. "Damn _you_, Sigma, for the positions you put me in. You'd better hope you get away from this place before I find you. You're so dead if you don't. And that's a killing I won't have nightmares about."


	41. Infernus Maximus

**Chapter 40: Infernus Maximus**

            Commander Zion had never been as happy as he was when he successfully patched through to Signas.

            The army was well into Megacity 5 now, but deep down they all knew they were too late. _Gallagher _could have done all sorts of things by now, and so no one even wanted to speculate on why they still couldn't reach Hunter HQ even though they had left _Gallagher_'s EMG field far behind them in the Catskills. Zion and the others had heard it from Blaze Heatnix that a hacker had struck the HQ, but he didn't know just how bad the situation was. That all changed when to his considerable surprise and disbelief he got a voice at the other end of his communicator.

            "Commander Signas here," a very excited voice crackled. "Zion, is that really you?"

            "You bet," Zion replied, resisting an urge to let out a whoop. "We're in the city. We're moving towards Hunter HQ."

            "You mean what's left of it," Signas said grimly.

            Zion all but fell over. "You mean…?!"

            "No!" Signas boomed it. "No! I didn't mean that at all! But they did fire a Buzzbomb. It didn't go nuclear on us, but it still packed enough of a punch to demolish the front half of the building. They were pounding it with regular gunfire until the Ravens reunited and started kicking the airship's ass."

            "What's the airship status?"

            "Look up," Signas suggested.

            That Zion did, along with Commanders Archer, Mason, Zegmann, and Acting Commander Jasper of the 17th. They could clearly see _Gallagher _sending sprays of artillery at the eleven Ravens that were floating like butterflies and stinging like tanks. Nevertheless, despite the blows, _Gallagher _seemed to be holding up very nicely…almost too nicely.

            "They've got energy shields," Archer observed, watching the shimmers of light that flashed whenever a projectile made contact with the airship.

            "That's what Douglas says," Signas said from the other end.

            "Look, tell Taggart to knock it off," Zion suggested. "Those Ravens can't have much ammo left, and they'd best save it until something knocks out those shields."

            "We've already knocked out a few," Signas responded. "And this seems to be the only way. I've radioed the Megacity Army for help, but…"

            "Hah!" Zion scoffed when Signas didn't go on. "Fat lot of good they'll do. But I guess every little bit helps."

            "Where's X?" Signas asked next.

            "Eh…not here," Zion replied gingerly.

            "_WHAT?"_

            "He stayed behind to destroy Seraph Castle," Jasper explained. "I've assumed command of his unit. He's working with Unit 0."

            Signas processed that. "Oh. Well…I guess I see how he's thinking." He launched into a breathless speech then. "Listen, Zion, that airship is the least of our worries. There's a Maverick army surrounding the headquarters, and it's moving in."

            "Jesus," Zion breathed. "Where the hell are you guys?"

            "Under a burning highway," Signas replied. "We're not a fighting force at all. We need reinforcements, bad. Most of us made it out of the base before the missile was fired. Tiberius and some of the wounded were trapped inside…Dr. Cain included."

            "Cain!" Mason gasped, tripping over his own feet. "What happened to Cain?"

            "He had a mild heart attack before we evacuated," Signas explained, deadpan. "He was stabilized instantly and should be quite alive, unless…"

            "Jesus…" Zion breathed, and then looked up at the light show going on around the airship. "Those sons of bitches!"

            "Hurry," Signas ordered, and a blip registered itself on some of Erich Zegmann's tracking gear. "That's our location. I have no idea how long we can stay hidden, but if enough of them find us…"

            "No worries," Zion assured him. "We're about a mile away from the HQ. I'll have some units teleport ahead to your position."

            "It won't work," Signas said sadly. "The airship fires EMG pulses every few minutes or so, and they always hit the whole HQ area. It's too dangerous for us to find another location, so we're stranded."

            Zion absorbed it. "We're coming now. Don't worry. Where are the Megacity forces coming in from?"

            "We've called on the Reploid Air Force and the _Icarus _mothership. _Icarus _is sending some Dragoons, and they know our position. They'll reinforce us. In time? I don't know."

            "We're coming," Zion said again. "Zion out." He looked to Archer and Mason as they raced along. "We need to teleport some troops ahead anyway to fortify the HQ area faster, even if we can't teleport there directly."

            "Hey, Zion," Archer mused, glancing at the sky. "You think that airship's out of the way of its own EMG?"

            "…It's possible," Zion agreed, beginning to see and evaluate Archer's idea.

            "You think we could teleport some troops directly on board?"

            "It…" Zion blinked and turned to Zegmann. "Could it work?"

            "They have those shields," the big human replied. "If we want to break through, we have to break the shields somehow."

            "Guess it's good that Taggart continues his assault," Zion decided. Then he blinked and looked up at the sky. "I hope he's got enough juice left in the tank. That second group didn't get a chance to reload or refuel."

            Jimmy Taggart was thinking the same thing. His fuel reserves were dangerously low, but he had at least fifteen minutes left on him, and he figured that if something miraculous didn't happen during those fifteen minutes, it was a losing battle anyway.

            Alec Tremont wasn't doing as bad on fuel. It was his weapons systems that worried him. He was running lower and lower on ammo, and while his laser Vulcan cannons could generate their own power if the battery went dead, the time it took to build such power back up would be lethal, especially in these unfriendly skies. Alec still had two mini-Sidewinders left, one under each wing. He'd sent his first two crashing into _Gallagher _when the dogfight had begun, though all it did was weaken the damned thing's shields.

            Bale had finished that job. The Reploid pilot had come up behind Alec, using the most curious Raven weapon with brilliant effectiveness. Underneath the aircraft's belly, there was a concentrated laser cannon that fired a charged, continual golden laser beam. In effect it was an aerial lightsaber, though its range wasn't spectacular and it drained gluttonous amounts of energy, but it was dreadfully effective in this case. Right after Tremont's Sidewinders hit home Bale held his Raven in a stationary position, hovering right in front of the shield and letting his "Raven Slasher" sit against the shield, continually draining its energy and weakening it. Just when the airship managed to redirect its weapons towards Bale, he threw his engines into action and actually shot backwards, taking full advantage of his aircraft, the most nimble model in existence, and loosed two of his four Sidewinders at a safe distance that was still almost point blank for the airship. The shields died around that particular spot, but the Hunters were finding themselves hard pressed to take advantage of this new weakness as _Gallagher _was now concentrating its defenses on that side.

            Satisfied, Bale turned his attention to another threat: the Bee Bladers. The Mavericks had five left, and they were sweeping the city at low altitudes searching for the evacuated Hunters. Bale's main objective was to destroy _Gallagher, _but the Ravens had also been tasked with providing cover fire for the Hunters on the ground until Zion and company returned. Bale knew what would happen if a Bee Blader radioed in to the Mavericks where the Hunters were hiding, and he wasn't about to let that happen. Bale began to trail the nearest Bee Blader, one that was sweeping a little too close to where he knew Signas and company were hiding. He followed the bulky, ugly mechaniloid and unleashed his Vulcan charges. The Bee Blader immediately gained altitude as it felt the blows, turning nimbly but not nimbly enough for the Raven, which increased speed and passed the machine up, avoiding its counterattack of machine gun salvos. The Bee Blader turned again to see Bale coming for it. It fired two bulky, slow moving missiles from its upper launchers that honed in weakly on Bale's position. The pilot merely kept coming, slowing his speed. At the last second he pulled up sharply, letting the missiles bypass him. He continued over the Bee Blader and then decreased altitude just as he switched on his Raven Slasher and turned around while hovering in a stationary position. Just as he suspected, the Bee Blader had stopped to turn around, as it had done twice in the past. The laser sliced clear through the stationary target, spilling the upper and lower halves onto the streets below.

            "Sick!" Alec Tremont's voice broke through Bale's radio.

            "That's one for me," Bale responded, feeling the adrenaline. "Four if you count those annoying little things." _Gallagher _had come prepared with aerial mechaniloids to clutter up the skies and make things difficult for the Ravens, which were not heavily armored to begin with. They were launched from a compartment on top of the airship. "You wanna take out that drone launcher?"

            "No," Tremont replied. "Not yet. We'll have to eat through the shields first. Concentrated attack?"

            Bale was about to reply when something bad happened. Raven 4, piloted by a fellow named George Reese, headed underneath _Gallagher _to throw off one of the ship's many salvos of homing torpedoes. Reese, however, did not notice the belly cannon of the ship turn and lock onto him, and thus did not take any evasive measures as the cannon blew apart his right wing and sent his plane in a death spiral that ended with a fireball in a city park.

            "Goddamn it!" Tremont was shouting without realizing it. "You bastards! You sons of BITCHES!"

            "Settle down Alec!" Jimmy Taggart patched through, knowing what was happening even without hearing the words, just from knowing Alec. "Don't do anything stupid!"

            "Like hell I won't!" Tremont retorted, steering his plane in a new direction. "Get away from the ship!"

            "Alec!" Taggart said sharply. "What are you—"

            "Just get away!" Alec said even more sharply, driving towards _Gallagher's _left wing, where a Buzzbomb was still situated.

            "What ARE you doing?" Bale asked after getting his distance.

            "I'ma take out the launcher," Alec responded. "Just not the one we were talking about." He switched off his communicator and fired up his two remaining Sidewinders. Then he bellowed his war cry as he sped towards the wing. "_Go to hell! You genocidal goddamned cocksuckers!!!"_

            The explosion rocked _Gallagher _and tipped the ship to the right. Chuck fell flat on his face and Revolver had to hold onto a chair. Gredam was the only one who kept his balance, but only barely.

            "The hell was that?" the commander exhaled when the ship restabilized.

            "Some asshole fired on the launcher," Revolver said, turning pale.

            "Holy shit!" Chuck jumped to his feet. "I hadn't even thought of that! How the hell did we forget—"

            "Knock it off!" Gredam shouted. "The Buzzbombs can't go nuclear unless they're in the air for a while. That's Greenback's program!"

            "But those normal ordinances might go off, and SHIT, you saw what they did to the Hunter Headquarters!" Chuck would have peed his pants if he could have.

            "That's what we have the shields for," Revolver said, trying to keep his calm. "But…Jesus, that shot alone took out half their power. What if the rest of them pick up on that?"

            "We have to get rid of that Buzzbomb," Chuck declared.

            "Now wait just a minute," Gredam said, sensing a fatal breakdown in his officers and trying to avoid it.

            "No!" Chuck shook his head. "Use them or lose them, Gredam! That's how it works! Otherwise the next shot, or the one after that, will cause this ship to destroy itself with its own weapons!"

            Before Gredam could reply, Barrier Greenback hopped into the room. He was smudged with grease and looked very pissed off. "The hell you doing to Greenback?! You want him to have heart attack?! Greenback said not to launch the Buzzbomb while he was working on it!!!"

            "No!" Gredam shook his head. "That was a Hunter attack."

            Greenback blinked. He didn't much understand, but he figured Gredam wouldn't lie, and dismissed it rather too easily. "Anyway Greenback fixed Buzzbomb. Greenback doesn't think that the boom-boom messed anything up, but if it did…" He shrugged, but a grin was back on his face. Gredam recognized it as the frog's characteristic eagerness. He had to shake his head. Greenback had totally immersed himself in the Buzzbomb project, and for the frog's small brain that was all life was for him at the moment. He was so into seeing his project succeed that he probably never even considered that people would die because of his efforts. Gredam wondered absently what the effect would be on the frog if he ever figured it out.

            "Find a target," Chuck ordered. "We've got to get rid of it before those Hunters try that again!"

            "I've got something here!" Revolver said, very loudly. "Looks like the Hunters have returned home!"

            "Damn," Gredam breathed. He'd hoped to be out of here by the time the Hunters got back. "Turn the ship around. We'll deal with them."

            "Our target?" Chuck asked hopefully.

            "No!" Gredam was amazed. "They'll shoot that Buzzbomb down in a heartbeat! They're ready for combat now, not like before."

            "So you think they won't shoot down our normal ordinances?" Chuck challenged.

            "Not all of them," Gredam answered. "We've got enough cluster missiles that most of them will get through. Keep the ship turning!"

            "Another contact!" Revolver reported, looking towards Gredam. "It's a big one, boss."

            Gredam blinked, daring to hope. He walked over to the console and identified the new contact…a big floating blip approaching their position.

            "Cease turning," Gredam ordered. "Line us up with that contact."

            "What?" Revolver asked suddenly.

            "We're getting rid of the Buzzbomb," Gredam said quietly. "You should be happy."

            Revolver chewed on this and glanced at Chuck, who just shrugged. Greenback bounced happily at the news. Revolver nodded slowly and started lining the ship up. "As you command."

            Gravity Beetle hovered slightly above ground, his wings spread and the thrusters beneath them activated. He moved among a platoon of about twenty Maverick troops, leading them to Kuwangner's Frontline. These were the troops that _Gallagher _had brought with it, and it was Gravity' job to get them into position to attack.

            Storm Eagle stood with the five other Mavericks capable of flight. Their wings spread and up they went to lead the aerial battle. Eagle sped right towards a disbelieving Raven and extended his buster arm. He fired the Storm Tornado, a huge horizontal burst of wind that completely ruined the pilot's control. By some miracle he managed to regain control of his Raven before he hit the ground, but before he could launch a counterattack he found himself being harassed by a Bee Blader.

            "This is almost too easy," Storm muttered to himself. Though he knew that could change in a heartbeat. All the Ravens needed was one good shot with a missile and Storm would be scrap. He flew low to the ground for this reason, firing Tornadoes to throw the enemy off track whenever they got too close to _Gallagher._ "Gravity!" he called his comrade on a wrist-com. "You guys need cover?"

            "We're all right," Gravity replied. "The planes are busy in the air or tracking our Bee Bladers."

            "Hm…" Storm looked up just as _Gallagher_'s belly cannon shot down a Raven. Cool. "I'm gonna move ahead anyway with my five. We'll see if we can't find those Hunter refugees."

            "Good idea," Gravity replied. "Radio me in if you—what's he DOING?"

            "Oh shit!" Storm breathed, watching as a Raven sped towards _Gallagher_'s wing and fired two Sidewinders at the missile launcher underneath. Time stood still for the bird as the explosions started, and all through his head he pictured the violent explosions that had ripped Hunter HQ apart reoccurring now, destroying everyone inside their ship…

            But it didn't happen. The shield barriers surrounding that side of the ship flared and flashed, but they held. They must be weakened, though, Storm knew, and a few more attacks like that might…

            "Maybe you should stick around there," Gravity suggested. "Keep any more of 'em away from that wing."

            "I think you're right," Storm decided, waving a hand to collect his five flying Mavericks. Then he stopped and blinked up at the sky. "What do you suppose that is?"

            "Jesus, it's big…" Gravity was looking up from the ground. "Hey…you don't think…?"

            "Reploid Air Force?" Storm shook his head. "I don't believe it! I didn't know they had airships like that…it's a flying fortress!" Then it hit him. "_Icarus!_ It's the Megacity Army! They're in that ship they stole from Storm Owl!"

            "And _Gallagher _is turning," Gravity observed, deadpan. "I…I think we'd better keep our distance for a while."

            "Yeah…" Storm nodded, just as his soldiers clustered around him. "All right," he said to them. "Keep the Hunters away from this launcher. But don't get in front of it." The avian looked apprehensively at the bulky device. "I have a feeling it's not gonna stay dormant much longer."

            "We've got a target lock, sir," the captain in charge of the weapon systems was saying. "Ready to fire on your order."

            "You sons of bitches," Colonel Alan Kitao whispered to the Mavericks aboard _Gallagher._ He knew who they had to be…and why they were turning to meet them. Those infidel Reploids had been a thorn in his side for far too long. They should have died when he'd sent Chartreuse out to kill them. Instead they'd lingered as the curse that Megacity 5 might never see the end of…but no. If they thought it would be as simple as that…well, they had another thing coming. "Fire concussion missiles!"

            The captain nodded and repeated the order. Air-to-Air-Missile batteries lining the sides of the floating base came to life. One by one they spouted chains of missiles into the air, all of them speeding towards the deadly airship in the distance. The Hunter reinforcements had arrived.

            But that was not to say the Hunters were entirely happy about it.

            "Great bleeding Jesus on his splintery wooden cross!" Tremont exclaimed into his radio.

            "EVERYBODY BEAT IT!" Taggart shouted, and the Ravens beat a very, very hasty retreat away from _Gallagher. _Apparently no one aboard _Icarus_ had bothered to check if there were any Hunters in the area before sending a wall of missiles flying at the airship.

            Once they were a safe distance away the sweating pilots tilted their heads to watch the fireworks…and what fireworks they were. As the _Icarus _missiles closed in, compartments on _Gallagher _opened and sprays of countermeasure decoy missiles shot up into the air, locking onto _Icarus _firepower and streaking towards their respective targets. Seconds later a wall of fire was born in midair as the missiles exploded into each other all seemingly at once, and the flashes blinded everyone on the ground, in the air, and even the terrified citizens hiding in their homes. Some weapons got through, though, and pounded _Gallagher _with explosive damage. Shields flickered and died, and the entire hull groaned in consternation.

            "They got it!" Jimmy Taggart exclaimed. "Sons of bitches almost roasted us, but they got the job done! Those shields are out of there!" He looked at _Icarus _to see if it was planning to launch any other death weapons at them. Seeing none he continued. "Whoever's got missiles left, let's get ready to put a hole in that hull."

            "Wait, sir," Bale patched through, sounding fearful. "Look at the enemy launchers."

            "…Damn," they all said at once.

            Gredam remained quiet and fierce, even when the ship was rocking from the blows _Icarus _had delivered. Their countermeasures had saved them, but they only had so many of those. The ship was damaged. It was now or never. The leader of the Terrornova assassins inhaled deeply but quietly, looking out a glass portal at the enemy craft hovering in the distance. He knew who had to be inside of it, but there was one he could never be sure of. Would that one son of a bitch in particular be sitting in the ship, or running around on the ground by now? Well…life was all about taking chances.

            "Revolver!" he boomed to the most collected of the three mechanics. "Time to make them answer for that insult. Get ready to fire, Greenback."

            "Greenback will not let boss down again!" the frog promised, activating thruster 2. "He hopes, anyway…"

            Zion looked up just as _Gallagher _flared to life as he'd never seen it do before. The thruster under the left wing flared up, and at the same time every other gun on the ship came to life. Salvos of homing torpedoes flew out, and so did a stream of larger missiles. Zion didn't even notice the Buzzbomb launch, because while bulkier than the others it was not much so, and he lost it with the rest of the cluster…no, wait, there it was…it was…lagging behind?

            "Shit, they're shooting back," the nervous captain reported.

            "Fire countermeasures," Kitao ordered. "Do it, you fool!" The man carried out his orders while Kitao shook his head. "Look at that assault…it's like swatting gnats."

            Even as he spoke _Icarus _deployed countermeasures, much as _Gallagher _just had. However Kitao would take no chances. He knew that the Mavericks must have a nuclear missile in their possession, and so he intended to make impossible for anything to pass through. And so, far more countermeasures than necessary were used, nearly all _Icarus _had, seeing as _Gallagher _certainly seemed to sending its full load.

            "Be ready," Colonel Kitao advised the captain. "When this fire dies, I want you to use the burst cannon."

            "It's fully charged and ready, sir," the captain assured him.

            "Good." Kitao watched out a portal and sucked in his breath as the storm of projectiles approached. They'd endure this salvo, and then they'd destroy the Mavericks with their burst cannon. The world would be free of the Terrornova curse once and for all. It all came down to this.

            The _Icarus _countermeasures struck the _Gallagher _projectiles almost two to one, and the overpowering display of defense mounted by the Megacity Army's floating fortress evidenced itself in the form of a much, much bigger wall of fire than what had appeared around the Maverick vessel. The thunder of the continuous explosions resonated throughout the city, and those who looked out their windows saw a cloud of bubbling flames and smoke that occasionally twinkled with new explosive light. The Ravens were hovering around in uncertainty. Strom Eagle and company were perched atop a skyscraper, watching intently. Gravity Beetle was halfway to Frontline when he looked up and saw the spectacle. Zion and his army were fast approaching _Gallagher _by this time. Signas, Caligula, Alia, Douglas, Xu and the other "refugees" looked up from their hiding place in anxiety, wondering what would be revealed when the blazing wall dissipated.

            Colonel Kitao was wondering the same thing. "Do we have a shot?"

            "Yes sir," the captain assured him. "The burst cannon will teach them!"

            At the front of the _Icarus _hull, steel panels slid back to reveal a massive energy cannon. _Icarus _had been designed as a ship in Storm Owl's air infantry, and thus shared many characteristics with ships in Owl's fleet. The "burst cannon" was merely a horizontal form of the huge vertical lasers fired from Owl's gunships. As the fires from the countermeasures died, they revealed masses of pinkish plasma energy drawing into the burst cannon as it prepared to launch the killing beam at _Gallagher _and end the Maverick air superiority.

            But the dying flames also revealed something else. A single projectile missile had just penetrated the cloud, approaching _Icarus _at a rapid pace.

            "The hell is that…?" a corporal asked the captain in charge of weapons.

            "I don't know," the captain replied nervously. "Prepare countermeasures!"

            "It's too close for that!" the corporal pointed out.

            "Well do SOMETHING!" Kitao had a sick feeling in his stomach. "Fire the burst cannon!!!"

            "I'm trying!" the captain reported back, panic seeping into his voice. "It's gotta finish the charge before it fires!"

            "Shit," Kitao realized, watching the projectile as it approached. Those sons of bitches had sent it with their main assault…but lagging behind. Now that they'd used all their countermeasures…and the missile was so close…what could they do to stop it? Virdelko had been right to bug out…he'd been right about everything. Good lord, he'd been no match for Terrornova after all, Kitao realized, too late.

            "Do not watch!" Greenback warned them. "Red fire hurts eyes!"

            "Only if you're human," Revolver pointed out, mesmerized. "Also, these windows are meant to reduce infrared…"

            Gredam was silent. He watched the Buzzbomb speed towards the helpless _Icarus_, noting the charging burst cannon but not paying attention to it. If the cannon fired, Gredam knew he would die, but if the missile hit first… If that happened, everything would be worth it. Every last comrade would be avenged, with the fall of the Megacity Army's trump card.

            "I've got you, you little bastards," he whispered, eerily inaudible to his comrades.

            SCBM Buzzbomb Two did not reach full speed until halfway into its flight, and by then the collisions made by _Gallagher_'s decoy assault more than disguised its coming.

            The missile, unlike its brother unit, suffered no faulty connections due to a poor connector rod. Greenback had fixed that too well. The frog's only concern anymore was whether or not the still-fragile nuclear warhead would come apart due to air resistance and the constant rattling of the missile body. All anticipation ended finally as the vengeance weapon struck its target, streaking over the upper deck and slamming into the first rising sector.

            Megacity 5 residents would remember it as the night Satan visited for a little while, bringing a bit of Hell's fire with him. The entire central sector filled with a flash of blazing white light that lasted only about a second but seemed so much longer. The thunder came after the lightning, shaking every building within a half-mile radius, though the blast itself was not very huge at all, true to the form of the Self Contained Ballistic Missiles. An impossibly thick red fireball engulfed _Icarus _and most of the nearby sky, the blast diameter approximately a quarter mile wide. Rings of white erupted out of the fireball once, spreading across the sky before dissipating. Then, finally, the mushroom cloud came. It billowed high in the sky, burning on bottom with red and orange light and thick with smoke at the top. It rumbled continuously, thunder with no more lightning. The effects were not just visual. Nearby buildings, especially taller ones, were shook to their foundations by the explosion and some began to crumble. Only two buildings—apartments—totally collapsed, crushing the inhabitants, but other buildings suffered major structural damage. The blast radius, while only a quarter mile wide, was still a quarter mile wide and in all directions: everything below where _Icarus _had once sat in the sky had been vaporized, and what was short enough to escape the blast was crushed by falling debris from either the mostly vaporized floating fortress or the nearby crumbling buildings. As a final finishing touch for Terrornova, the energy collected by _Icarus_'s burst cannon dissipated when Buzzbomb Two made contact, rather than firing on _Gallagher_.

            Those who witnessed the blast experienced mixed reactions. _Gallagher_'s occupants viewed it with proper yet smug awe from behind safe windows. Most people had no way to look directly at the blast, and turned away. Those who were close to the blast were…well, dead. Then there were those who saw the whole terrible firestorm from beginning to end, even though it hadn't ended yet. The rising ball of fire and smoke would burn well into the night, rising ever upwards until the wind broke it up and scattered radioactive fallout throughout Megacity 5. The fact that there was a blizzard blowing merely ensured that this process would happen faster.

            One who looked directly at the "sun" was Commander James Taggart, and it was the last thing he would ever see clearly. The initial waves of blinding white light served their purpose, and after viewing the spectacle with open eyes Taggart cried out as his eyeballs ached with pain. His discomfort gave way to panic when he realized that he could no longer see anything.

            By some small miracle Taggart remembered to switch on his autopilot before lapsing into full panic. "Shit, shit, shit!" he said into the airwaves. "I can't see, guys, I can't see a goddamned thing!"

            "Christ…" the weak voice of Alec Tremont came back to him. "Boss, calm down. Is autopilot on?"

            "Yeah, yeah, it's fine, but what's going on? Dammit Alec, what happened?"

            "Calm down!" Tremont was panicking too now, but he had to get a hold on himself. His boss couldn't see…what the hell was that about? Tremont's Raven 13 sped over to Taggart's bird and flew over it, spraying an approaching aerial drone with Vulcan cannon fire.

            "What was that?" Taggart asked nervously.

            "Nothing," Tremont responded truthfully. "Keep flying, boss, don't hit anything. You're good to go for a while."

            "What happened?" Taggart asked again, shakily. Tremont didn't respond. He was shaking too. He didn't even want to acknowledge what had just happened.

            "What's the problem, boss?" Tremont asked, keeping a look out for any more enemies who might be trying to harass Taggart.

            "I can't see," the man replied. "I see a glow, but…just a glow, just a goddamned glow, and I can't make nothin' out…"

            Tremont couldn't stand hearing his commander panic, especially when he himself needed some assurance that the whole world hadn't just given in to panic. "Settle down," he repeated. "Settle down, godammit, settle down. We're gonna get you on the ground, Jimmy. See, here's a strip of road, away from the center of the city now. Order a landing."

            Taggart regained enough control to do so. One advantage these two had was that Taggart quite literally could fly his plane with his eyes closed…or in this case with burned out retinas, which was what the explosion had done to him. His Raven landed roughly but successfully and skidded to a halt. Taggart himself sat in his seat, breathing harder than ever before and sweating something fierce. He still couldn't see. He thought of unstrapping himself and getting out of the plane, but he didn't even have the energy to move his arms, it seemed.

            "You all right down there?" Tremont asked, his voice less shaky and more tired.

            "Yeah…" James Taggart managed. Then he blinked his sightless eyes and started shaking his sweating head back and forth to himself. "I'm done, Alec…"

            "I don't wanna hear that, boss—"

            "I'm done, dammit!" Assertiveness was returning to Taggart's voice. "It's all you now. Get back there and work with the others and…Jesus Alec, make 'em beg if you know how. You're in charge of this unit now, Pilot Tremont."

            "I…"

            "You will succeed," Taggart said with finality. "Godspeed." He broke the connection before Tremont could object. He leaned back in his command chair and let out the longest sigh of his life. The career pilot was forced to admit to himself that he had been unfairly and prematurely, but very definitely, grounded.

            "Christ…" Tremont said, blinking stupidly at his radio for a few seconds. Then he finally became aware of Bale's voice chiming away on another channel.

            "What's going on with the commander, Alec?" Bale was saying.

            "The commander's blind," Tremont started to say, but Taggart's voice interrupted all channels of Raven radios.

            "Attention all pilots, this is Commander Taggart. I am no longer able to fly. Alec Tremont is now in charge of this unit. Follow his orders and don't give him any bullshit, or I'm pretty sure, knowing him, he'll send a Hellfire missile streaking up your ass. …You know what your mission is. Now go." Transmission ended.

            "Am I that impulsive?" Tremont asked himself. Then he realized that Taggart had opened all channels to him. He regained his composure and began to speak. "You all saw what just happened. Now they will pay for what they've done." His apprehension gave way to fury, and he threw Raven 13 into full speed and sped back into action. "Heads are gonna _roll for this one!!!" he shouted into his radio._

            When Commander Zion could hear again, the first thing he thought was that he wished his audio sensors were still deadened. All he could hear were gasps of breath and people weakly repeating phrases such as "Oh, my God", "We're too late," or his favorite, "It's all over". It was, in fact, only beginning, Zion realized. As though in a trance or in slow motion, Zion tilted his head to where _Gallagher still hovered, having won the title of King of the Air. Past that he noticed Frontline moving in, closing on the Hunter HQ to invade and do lord knew what to any survivors still inside. Yes, he thought, turning back to his terrified army. The battle for Megacity 5 was only beginning._

            And it would be Zion who struck the next deathblow.

            "JASPER!" Every voice was silenced at the powerful bellow from Commander Zion of Unit 20. The man who'd been summoned stepped forward. Jasper hadn't been far behind Zion to begin with. His face was lined with anger, but there was no fear. Just anger. Zion felt worlds better when he saw that.

            Jasper waited for orders but Zion was not finished. "LARIAT!" he bellowed again. The lion from Unit 17 stepped forward, his trademark steel-link whip in his hand. "SHADIN!" The dark-armored woman also approached. The three guessed that Zion was calling upon the elites of Unit 17. "SCYLLA!" They were right. The unflappable Scylla stepped forward, her white hair blowing over her unblinking eyes. Her face was drained by the moment and she appeared somewhat soulless. It privately scared the hell out of Zion, but that was what Scylla specialized in, after all.

            Mega Man X's sergeants clustered around the imposing figure of Zion, who spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. It was a wonder he'd even bothered to call them up if he were going to speak so forcefully. "The shields around that airship have fallen. It took more damage from _Icarus's onslaught than we've bothered to realize." He motioned to the airship, which did look a bit more ruined than everyone had thought now that the smoke had cleared. "You all will teleport inside that ship and destroy it. Scylla, you're with Aegis," he added more quietly. "You know sabotage like the back of your hand. Destroy the engine room. Take Shadin with you." He looked to Jasper and Lariat. "You two head right for the cockpit. Kill any of the sons of bitches you find there. Kill them good. Saboteurs, alert our assassins when to bail out. They can use their goddamned flying trump card as their tomb." Zion thrust his fist out towards __Gallagher. "Now! GO! Before they use another EMG pulse!"_

            Unit 17 traded looks at Zion's boldness, and then Jasper led the way, warping towards the ship as a streak of iridescent light, shortly followed by his three companions.

            "Are you sure they'll be enough?" Commander Mason asked nervously.

            Zion turned to him with the grimmest of grins. "You don't know these Hunters, Mason. They're insane."

            "It's done…" Commander Gredam broke the silence with a whisper. The roaring, flaming cloud in the sky was his vengeance, at long last realized. "Then fall Terrornova… Burn in hell."

            Alarms were going off. "Oh, shit!" Revolver exclaimed after running a diagnostic on the ship. "Shit, shit, shit…"

            "What?" asked the ever-anxious Chuck. "What is it now?"

            "_Icarus hurt us more than we realized," Revolver explained. "They mangled our shields, but some stuff got through and mangled our hull armor too. We're fair game for their Ravens."_

            "Hmm." Gredam let out a long breath. Kuwangner had two Dark Cloud jets in his possession…why wasn't Frontline using them? Anyway, he decided, the time for aerial combat had passed. They had a long battle to fight, and _Gallagher had served its purpose. "Head for home," he ordered Revolver, Chuck, Greenback, and the other technician in the cockpit. "Quickly. They'll be after this ship in a heartbeat. If things look bad…warp out."_

            "I will never abandon this ship," Revolver said forcefully, his eyes blazing with victory. "It's my prize creation…the reason we came this far. It'll come home with us."

            "As you wish." Gredam opened a radio link to Boomer Kuwang…no, he decided, Boomer was a dick. He called up Gravity Beetle instead. "How's it hanging?"

            "Couldn't be better," Beetle replied with a mysterious tone, one that Gredam couldn't interpret. "You coming down now?"

            "I'll rendezvous with your group," Gredam acknowledged.

            "We're almost at Frontline," Beetle replied. "I'll transmit our position."

            "Meet them, yes," said a new voice in Gredam's frequency. "But only to grab an army and follow me to the pot of gold."

            "What?" Gredam asked. "Storm, what have you found?"

            "The needle in the haystack," Storm Eagle replied with cold delight. "While the world froze in horror, I was quite active. The Ravens just sat there and let me explore. Guess who I found, all huddled together under a broken highway road?"

            "Don't tell me," Gredam breathed.

            "Come quickly," Storm Eagle urged. "I don't know how long before reinforcements get to them, but if we can destroy Signas and the others first…or even take them hostage…" He laughed out of sheer eagerness. Actual victory seemed within his grasp. "I'll provide aerial cover when you get there."

            "Send me the coordinates when I call from Gravity's position," Gredam ordered, breaking the connection. "So it begins. It's Frontline versus the Hunters now. Your battle is over."

            "_Gallagher has already reversed course," Revolver informed him. "Go command, Commander."_

            "Thank you." He turned to Greenback, the most curious of the lot, perched quietly on his stool. "And you, Greenback. Your efforts are the only reason we were able to pull this off. Congratulations. You have succeeded."

            Greenback didn't answer. He didn't even give an acknowledging nod. He just continued to stare out the window at the growing, burning cloud in the sky. Once in a while nictitating glands covered his eyes in a froggish blink, but that and his breathing were the only signs he was even alive.

            "You easily-awestruck fool!" Revolver laughed good-naturedly at his accomplice. "You can savor it as long as you wish."

            Greenback blinked again, responding to the words as though coming out of some trance. He nodded lightly to acknowledge Revolver but still kept staring out the viewing portal. Gredam analyzed the frog's eyes, thinking he knew what the problem was and quite correct in his guess. There was guilt in Greenback's eyes.

            "You can't be sorry," Chuck realized what was happening. "You did the right thing. Those humans would enslave us all."

            "Surely you knew what you were doing," Gredam said, slightly surprised at his condescending tone. Maybe it was that he couldn't stand any sympathy for such dogs as he'd just nuked.

            "Of course Greenback knew," the frog shot back. "But…it is different happening in front of eyes than on papers."

            "It's life. There are no real simulations. No trial runs. Just do or die. We did, and they died." Gredam's face hardened. "Don't feel bad for those men, Greenback. The things they personally have done to Reploids are atrocious. I saw it. I saw it all, and they earned their deaths. You merely gave it to them."

            "But what gives Greenback that right…?" the amphibian Reploid asked himself, almost inaudibly.

            Gredam pretended he didn't hear it and made an about face. He punched in a destination on his teleporter and vanished from _Gallagher in a streak of green light._

            No sooner had he done so than four other teleportation signals touched down inside the ship.

            Revolver blinked. Intuition kicked in and he placed his hand on his weapon—a real revolver, filled with adaman bullets capable of demolishing Reploid armor like a normal bullet through a human's flesh—that was seated in a belt holster. Chuck glanced at the technician, who reached for a machine pistol he'd brought with him. "Where are the others?" Revolver asked the technician, after noticing that Greenback was tensing up too.

            There were three other technicians aboard, the one told them, and he didn't know how to get through to them without—

            The sounds of combat filled the cockpit from outside and everyone stiffened.

            "No one abandons this ship!" Revolver declared, taking his position with his revolver drawn and pointed at the cockpit door. He continued on, his voice a menacing hiss. "There are only four of them. Ambush them and kill them the minute they enter!"

            Jasper, Lariat, Shadin, and Scylla materialized inside _Gallagher together with their weapons drawn: Jasper held his arm cannon at the ready, an energy dagger deactivated and tucked in his belt; Lariat with his steel-link whip connected by flexible intertwined metal bands; Shadin with a dual beam saber—one blade spouting from each end—; and Scylla with the longest, sharpest, nastiest energy sword most of the Hunters had ever seen. The blade was no simple long rod, and was rather a thicker, broader white blade emerging from a blue, spiky, gemmed "spine" attached to the handle. Unit 17's elites broke away from each other instantly, scanning the room for threats and finding none, and then heading their separate ways._

            Shadin and Scylla raced towards what they hoped was the engine room. It wasn't long before they encountered on the cramped hallways a frightened Maverick humanoid technician. Scylla gave him no quarter whatsoever. The Huntress sprang forward with an almost ethereal cry and dragged her sword diagonally across the Maverick's body, spilling him to the floor gushing blood. She leapt over him, and Shadin soon after, the latter jamming one end of her saber down into the dying Maverick on the floor, putting him out of his misery.

            They took the hallway the technician had emerged from, supposing it led to the engine room. It did—the door was ajar. Scylla was about to open it but Shadin stopped her with a touch and an inclination of her dark-haired head. Scylla nodded in understanding and backed up, letting Shadin go in front. They clearly heard frantic breathing behind the door…someone was there, and that someone knew that a battle was on.

            The door flew open and Shadin raced in, and was immediately greeted by a spray of laser fire from a machine gun. She was twirling her double-blade before she even got through the door, however, and continued spinning it with some demonic speed. Indeed that was what she looked like—a demon, armored mostly in spiky black with dark hair, tanned skin, and haunting brown eyes. Her red saber blades twirling like a nonstop fan complete the demonic image that scared the hell out of the Maverick, who started a scream as he was unable to kill the Huntress in front of him. The scream ended when his ammo clip expired. Almost instantaneously Shadin took half a step forward, pulled one shoulder back, and flung one arm out and released the spinning blade from her fingertips. It sped through the air and cut the crouching Maverick in half, spilling his segments to the floor.

            Once that was settled Shadin retrieved her weapon and looked to Scylla, who had just entered and sheathed her deactivated saber. Scylla looked at the complicated engines and machinery before them and looked thoughtful. Shadin went to the door and shut it, trying to drown out the whine of the engine and the roar of the alarms. Finally she could stand it no longer and asked Scylla if she had any ideas.

            "I don't have any timed explosives with me," the Aegis agent confessed. "I do have these, though." She produced four grenades.

            "Well fat lot of good those do us," Shadin observed. "We'll have to wait until they finish before we can destroy the place, instead of the other way around."

            Scylla nodded somberly, confirming Shadin's fears. Then she patched in to Jasper to tell him the rotten news.

            Jasper and Lariat moved with a vengeance, heading up small staircases, figuring the command room would be above them.

            They arrived atop one staircase just as a Maverick was descending another one. The technician raised his weapon—an arm cannon—but Lariat rushed him with a feral roar and snapped his whip arm out in front of him before the Maverick could pull off a shot. The whip punched clear through the target's chest armor and through his body, emerging out of his back. The stunned Maverick staggered even further when Lariat tore the whip out with a heave and another roar, cracking it on the floor for good measure as Jasper approached and fired a charged blast into the Maverick as he fell, not about to let Jasper have all the fun. These people would get no sympathy for what they had just done. The Hunters would have it no other way.

            This thought in mind, Lariat and Commander Jasper darted towards the _Gallagher control room to dethrone the King of the Air._

            Every remaining Raven with a missile came together in midair, looking like the flying "v" ducks were known to perform. They sped towards _Gallagher like a pointed spearhead._

            "Spread out and fire at various points," Commander Tremont summarized the plan they'd formed. "Bale, give me hand with the cockpit."

            "You got it," Bale responded, getting his plane ready for action. Tremont activated the Raven Slasher and fell behind Bale, who still had missiles. The latter began to activate his two remaining Sidewinders, targeting the hull nearest what they imagined the cockpit was. Raven 9 was coming down with a single missile to help, and it fired first.

            "The hell are they doing?" Archer asked of the Ravens.

            "You didn't tell Taggart?" Zion asked Erich Zegmann in shock.

            "Taggart isn't responding and all their radios are jammed up," Zegmann retorted. "I don't know what the hell's going on!"

            "Jesus," Zion and Archer said in unison, praying their soldiers would be out of the way when the carnage began.

            "Hold on," Lariat said to Jasper, backing away from the cockpit door. "I just had an idea."

            "Make it quick," Jasper warned, just as he got a call from Scylla. "Cute," he remarked when it was over. "I'll call ya when we're done, sure. Take care." He began charging his cannon while he waited for Lariat, who returned speedily, being a feline. When Jasper saw what Lariat was carrying he grinned in morbid humor. "You demon, you."

            "I hear something," the nervous woodchuck Maverick said, clutching his weapon—a huge adamantine club.

            Revolver just looked at him. It was all he had time for before the door burst open and the intruders entered in all their glory. Revolver acted instantly and perfectly, firing his weapon with a mighty bang. The bullet struck its unsuspecting target in the chest, blowing it apart and dropping the body to the floor.

            And what a body it was! It was the shredded corpse of a Maverick technician, the same one Lariat and Jasper had killed on their way in. He must have been used as a decoy, Revolver realized, too late. He'd been duped!

            "Look out!" Chuck shouted, as all hell broke loose.

            Jasper charged in first, just as the poor Maverick landed on the floor after dying a second death. The other technician in the room started firing his machine pistol, but his shots were frantic and poorly aimed and Jasper just extended his charged cannon and fired. The final technician never had a chance. He vaporized, much like _Icarus just had, Jasper connected grimly but smugly._

            Revolver fired a second shot that bounced off the wall, narrowly missing Lariat. Annoyed, the Hunter darted forward but pulled an immediate about face as he sensed Chuck coming up from behind with his club. Lariat dodged the attack, which gloriously unsettled Chuck. The lion slashed the woodchuck across the face with his claws, but before Lariat's weapon could come into play Chuck struck out with his large right fist, catching Lariat in the stomach and sending him staggering backwards. Grinning maliciously with his newfound advantage, Chuck roared and swung his club hard, but it never fell. Another charged blast from Jasper's high-powered cannon landed in his chest, vaporizing a big hole in the Maverick technician. Chuck stared blankly down at the wound for a second, and then back up at Lariat in disbelief…and then behind Lariat.

            Revolver fired his weapon again, hitting Lariat in his whip arm's shoulder. The Hunter let out a huge roar of pain as the adaman bullet tore through his upper arm, rendering the whole limb useless, even as Chuck slumped dead to the floor. Revolver's eyes blazed with hot fire as he prepared to fire the killing blow, but Jasper's humming cannon stopped him in his tracks.

            "Tough break, asshole," Jasper whispered, just loud enough for Revolver to hear.

            But that blow didn't come either. Barrier Greenback leapt into action, landing hard on Jasper's back and sending his shot flying into Revolver's computer mainframe, destroying it. Greenback had seen Chuck die, he'd seen the technician die, and he wasn't about to let Revolver die. The loss of his friends more than outweighed any guilt he felt at causing the nuclear explosion. He would not let down his friends.

            Lariat glowered and shifted his whip from one arm to the working one. He lashed it out and it wrapped around Revolver's leg. He tugged hard, spilling the humanoid to the floor. The lion got to his feet and flung his whip at Greenback, who did the most curious of things: he shot out his iron tongue, and the two bodies wrapped around each other. Lariat's eyes widened in shock and he gave a one-armed tug that threw Greenback into a wall…which he rebounded off of with his super strong legs and flew towards Lariat, just as another blast from Jasper struck the wall where Greenback had just been. The legs extended and kicked Lariat in the chest, sending him flying back into the destroyed computer.

            Greenback disentangled himself and leapt back towards Jasper, the only Hunter left standing. Revolver, unsure what to do, pointed his weapon at Lariat, who was speedily recovering but not fast enough. One down, Revolver thought as he moved his trigger finger.

            "You bastard freak!" Jasper shouted in frustration, dodging Greenback's tongue and firing a blast right at the frog. Greenback let out a scratchy, throaty cry and just…stood there. A shimmering white barrier surrounded him, and the blast dissipated as it slammed into this barrier.

            "Hunter will not win!" Greenback declared. "Greenback won't let you!"

            At that moment something very big happened. It was an explosion. Several of them at that, and each one rocked the ship hard. An entire section of the cockpit exploded as the hull was torn away by Sidewinder missile blasts…and then the huge beam of a Raven Slasher cut through the rest of the hull, making a big hole.

            Revolver cried out as he was thrown to the floor by the Raven's assault. Lariat, seeing his chance, leapt to his feet with that monstrous, feral roar of his and cracked his whip once. The Father of _Gallagher stood up just in time to have Lariat's lariat wrap around his neck. The lion shoved him bodily into a wall and Revolver's weapon clattered uselessly to the floor. Lariat tightened his noose, slowly strangling the Reploid—death by crushing spinal connections rather than oxygen deprivation, since Reploids didn't really need oxygen—and looked the Maverick right in his wide, frantic eyes._

            "You thought you'd kill us all, didn't you?" Lariat said, spitting in the bastard's face. "Do you KNOW what lines you just crossed? The Pandora's Box you just opened? Now everybody who gets vaguely annoyed will turn to nukes to solve their troubles!!!"

            Revolver somehow managed to lean his head forward and speak one final, vicious word: "Good."

            Lariat growled and snapped the Maverick's neck. Then he turned to see what happened to Jasper.

            When the Ravens struck, Jasper and Greenback hadn't had the best of times. Both were sucked out of the massive rip in the cockpit hull, and found themselves tumbling and screaming to the ground below.

            "Damn the Hunters!" Greenback shrieked as he fell. He managed to tilt himself towards Jasper, and the Hunter's eyes bugged out. Greenback's eyes blazed with something that Jasper couldn't identify…was it hate? No…then what?

            Greenback's next action cleared that up: it was a positively anguished cry of "And damn the Mavericks!" With that the frog tilted his head upward and his tongue shot out of his mouth. It punctured the side of a building like a grappling hook and Greenback swung away, rappelling away from the first and last battle of his Maverick career.

            Jasper didn't have time to reflect. Coming to his senses he punched in some codes very quickly into a panel on his wrist. Just before Jasper hit the ground and turned into a splattered puddle of Hunter soup, he transformed into a warp beam and shot off.

            Zion was in the middle of worrying when Jasper materialized next to him.

            "Damn you," the startled commander breathed. Then he blinked in concern. "What happened?"

            Jasper wasn't listening. He was speaking into his communicator. "Lariat, beat it." A second later a streak of light shot out from _Gallagher. "Scylla, Shadin. Do your thing." Then he turned to look at Zion, Zegmann, Archer and Mason. "'Sup."_

            Zion turned to Archer. "I told ya they was insane."

            Scylla pulled the pins on two grenades and placed them in key positions. Shadin did the same with the other two. Then they nodded and teleported away. The explosions shredded everything in the engine room and breached the core of the ship. A nuclear blast of a different sort tore through _Gallagher, ripping the lower portion apart. The wings actually fell off and the ship slowly descended from the skies. Hunters whooped. Mavericks watched in shock and fear. Just like that, the tables had been turned. The Buzzbomb deliverer crashed in between some buildings, much to Hunter chagrin, but fortunately the major explosions were over, and the dead airship __Gallagher laid still, with its parents Revolver and Chuck entombed inside._

            He'd thought the night couldn't get any crazier, but just like that he'd been proven wrong. The commander of the approaching Megacity ground troops quickly went over the situation. _Icarus, his mothership, was gone. __Gallagher had exploded in midair and landed hard and dormant on the ground. Both aerial menaces had been shut down in a relatively short time. The nuclear explosion had been fun to watch, though having to make sure his human soldiers didn't look was kind of annoying._

            But nevertheless, Chartreuse thought with smuggest of smiles, Colonel Kitao was no more, and perhaps his old friends had even died in _Gallagher when it fell. Oh, wouldn't it be grand if all his loose ends had been taken care of like that! Yet, somehow, he didn't think fate would be so kind to him. He'd pressed his luck once already, he knew, just be deploying from __Icarus when he had. Any longer and he might not have gotten away before the aerial firefight started. He was alive, he reflected, and he had a squad of Dragoons under his control, all waiting for his orders to do anything he wanted them to do…anything at all. And there was at long last no annoying, repulsive __human telling him what to do._

            But what was there to do, anyway? Chartreuse was pretty sure that he knew. In order to tie this whole event up neatly, he'd need to make bloody sure he eliminated as many of those damned loose ends as he could…and he was pretty sure that if any had survived, they'd be running to fortify Hunter HQ at the moment.

            Perhaps the first thing to do, he decided, was to do exactly what he'd come here to do. He patched in to Signas, who he found was far away but could be accessed by moving in a simple straight line…and he wasn't picking up any major Maverick clusters in the middle of the road. It should be a short trip, if it needed to be made.

            "You guys still alive?" Chartreuse asked irreverently.

            "Chartreuse!" Signas blustered back. "God, am I glad you made it."

            "Something happening?" Chartreuse asked with a blink.

            "It might be. Storm Eagle and his floating goons spotted us. I imagine they'll be sending a party to eliminate us as soon as possible."

            _And who might be in charge of that party? There was only one way to find out. "I've got your position, Signas. I'm bringing the Dragoons over."_

            "Thanks," Signas responded genuinely. "We'll hold out till you get here. Signas out."

            "Right," Chartreuse said into the deactivated radio. Then he turned to his twenty-five or so Dragoons, some Reploid but mostly human, and all well armed and well trained. "Fall into line, people. We've got a battle to fight."

            It was great, Chartreuse reflected after they started marching, that everything had worked out reasonably well up to this point. His only major beef was that he was sick and bloody goddamned tired of keeping everything a secret. He really hoped he did find one of those Terrornova schmucks leading the Mavericks. He would have a ball crushing their spirit with what he knew, just before he killed them.

            It would be just like old times, Chartreuse thought with a positively sinister grin.****


	42. Broken Halo

**Chapter 41: Broken Halo**

            Four mechaniloid tanks and three humanoid Mavericks guarded the passageway leading to Cyber Peacock's lair. All had been waiting in tense suspense for the Hunter challengers who were supposedly coming their way. Not a single one was ready for Mega Man X's onslaught.

            The champion Hunter, adorned by his imposing Fourth Armor, didn't see his challengers any sooner than they saw him, but he didn't do any waiting before his armor switched to a black and yellow coloration and he fired a Lightning Web right in the middle of the tank cluster, gumming them up for a few seconds. His armor switched back to normal and he leapt over the mass of mechaniloids, landing in the middle of the three stunned Mavericks and bringing his buster up at one. He fired a single shot at low power, which for X wasn't all that low. The Maverick let out a cry and grabbed at his arm, jumping back into a wall. X, without missing a beat, sprang towards another Maverick and caught him in the gut with a boot. The Maverick slumped to the floor. The third Maverick just dropped his gun and ran. X turned to the other two outgunned Mavericks and merely raised an eyebrow. They fled in terror. X let them go. He saw no need to kill the grunts. He'd save his anger for the big wigs.

            Unfortunately the drone mechaniloids could not be reached by reason. The Lightning Web wore off and one of the tanks managed to turn and get off a shot, which exploded into the wall to X's right. Diving away from the shrapnel, X began charging a shot while switching his armor to a black and purple color combo. He rushed the tiny tanks again and leapt over their heads. When he landed he turned sharply and unleashed his charged Twin Slasher, creating a storm of lavender energy blades that tore into the targets like a hurricane. And speaking of hurricanes, X thought as his armor changed yet again, this time to green, it was time for him to get one brewing. Two tanks had taken the full brunt of the Twin Slasher attack and were now offline. The other two were still clinging to life and were lining up shots at the nimble, seasoned soldier. X shook his head and leapt right back over the enemy, and when he landed he extended his hands and from them sprang two orbs of windy green energies. The Double Cyclone carried both tanks into the air. X performed yet another weapon switch and his armor became blazing red in color. He stepped forward so that he was directly underneath one of the tanks and he pumped his fist in the air. The Rising Fire, a burning plasma laced blast, tunneled into and through the levitating machine, toasting it. That left the one, and X handled it with much less flair. He let the disgruntled mechaniloid fall to the ground and snapped his foot out, kicking the rotating upper turret section. It spun around like a broken doll's head, and that was the end of that.

            X's Fourth Armor returned to its original alabaster and gold coloration and the Hunter allowed himself a smug smile at how quickly he'd dispatched Seraph Castle's "defenses". His next target, he knew, would not be so easy to dispatch. The Hunter resumed his walk towards the distant gate leading to what he presumed was Kujacker's hideout. In his mind he began going over his strategy.

            The first time X encountered Peacock, in cyberspace, he'd made short work of the bird. Cyber had pulled a vanishing act that X quickly conquered. Then the bird had turned to his homing lasers, and those had nearly turned the tables. X only came through by sending a Soul Body in front of him. The lasers had locked onto the phony X, leaving the real one free to race unhindered to where Cyber was hovering dumbfounded and fire a single point blank shot that ate through the Maverick's meager armor and dropped him lifelessly to the ground. Cyber had reappeared in Final Weapon, but X suspected that it was a "Drone Clone" Sigma built to keep him busy, since he was pretty sure he'd vanquished the real Peacock the first time around. That second fight hadn't been much different from the first. X used his Soul Body right off the bat, and learned that if it collided with Peacock something in the Soul Body makeup made the Maverick's teleportation systems go haywire, immobilizing the bird and leaving him open for an attack.

            Those were the first two battles, but now Cyber Peacock was back again, and he had probably learned from his past mistakes. X suspected that if his enemy tried anything funny it would come from the lair itself rather than from the Maverick. Peacock couldn't support massive weapons, and would probably rely on a trap of some sort. Well, X had survived lots of traps, and he had eight special weapons ready for action, including Peacock's bane, the Soul Body. It was a remarkable weapon. It generated a clone of X comprised entirely of a rainbow of colored energies that exploded violently into anything they touched. It was a heavy drain on X's weapon energies, but in certain cases it was worth it.

            He was at the gate. There were no cameras or other defenses. X pressed his hand to the gate…but no, he didn't, because it opened before his hand ever made contact. _Looks like I'm invited,_ X thought as he entered the chamber. But of course. Peacock would be wanting revenge, and revenge only, otherwise he would have already fled. This was a direct, personal challenge that had nothing to do with the Mavericks. And X was just fine with that.

            The gate hissed shut behind X and he found himself inside…darkness. Grand. His infrared sensors came online, but to his confusion he locked onto nothing. The room was empty. Then X remembered that Peacock liked to hover in Limbo.

            Cyber Peacock had always been equipped with a short-range teleporter, much like Magna Centipede and Boomer Kuwangner, but Peacock had one decidedly different attribute to his teleporter that the others lacked. That attribute was a device that allowed Peacock's warping molecules to hover in stasis…temporary nonexistence, in a way. Cyber Peacock could be inside a room without ever really being in it: his "soul" was there but it could not be seen by the naked eye nor tracked by infrared, since it gave off no heat. On the same token Peacock could take no physical action, since he had no physical form. As long as he was in this state he could not attack X, and that was a relief.

            X wandered slowly into the center of the chamber while his CPU worked overtime. It combined data from X's mental map of Seraph Castle with the readings X was taking inside the room itself to present to X an image of what the room looked like with the lights on. Able to navigate without error, X looked around and got his bearings. The floor was sinking, he noticed, and that was because…the walls were roundly indented to give the chamber a spherical effect. What could that signify?

            "Mega Man X," a voice said out of a clear sky.

            X stiffened and quickly scanned the room for signs of life. There were none. And yet… "Cyber Peacock."

            "We meet again," Kujacker's voice said. "How do you like my new base of operations? It's much more easily accessible than Cyberspace, wouldn't you say?"

            "Well I wouldn't know," X replied conversationally, silently charging his arm cannon. "I can't see much of it."

            "Then let me risk a little light," Peacock replied, and a dim ceiling light came on that illuminated the room in a faint purple glow, something X found overly dramatic…and nevertheless chilling. The room was indeed spherical, but that wasn't its only interesting aspect. Small green orbs were embedded in the upper centers of each of the four walls—the room was in truth a square, but a very round square, meaning the corners had been rounded to create more of a spherical flow and the indents in the floor, ceiling, and four walls created the domed effect. Also there was a rather large computer mainframe sitting in the corner…and X knew how much Peacock loved computers.

            Without so much as a blink, X raised his charged cannon and sent the huge blast flying towards the computer. It exploded in a cloud of flames and bits and pieces were scattered across the room.

            "…Well that wasn't very nice," Peacock's voice rasped after a few moments of silence.

            "I don't have time to waste with you," X stated flatly. "If you want a fight, come get it. If not then bugger off and let me deal with things that are actually important."

            "Point taken, X, and that is precisely why I'm stalling. You know how much I love to annoy you."

            "I didn't, but I do now." X began another silent buster charge. "I hear you've been busy inside our Headquarters."

            "Indeed!" The Maverick was pleased with the turn in the conversation. "Scythe was very useful. A Maverick after my own heart. Very into computers, he was."

            "Scythe?" The name didn't ring a bell.

            "I wouldn't expect you to remember." The voice carried the essence of a shrug. "Anyway, he made it very easy for _Gallagher _to accomplish its mission."

            _"Gallagher_? Is that the name of the floating washtub you sent after us?"

            "That it is! And now that both Buzzbombs have flown, you'll be returning home to a very different Megacity 5!"

            The blood drained from X's face. "What are you talking about?"

            "They're gone, X!" Peacock roared with laughter. "They're all gone!"

            "Who's gone?" X allowed his apprehension to get the better of his judgment.

            "All of them. The first bomb took out the HQ. The second landed right in the middle of Zion's returning party," Peacock lied. "The Mavericks now own your precious city, and all your buddies paid the price for their betrayal of our species!"

            "You bastard!" X frothed, though something inside him warned him not to take the bird too seriously. He had no way of knowing what had really happened in Megacity 5, and taking a Maverick's word was probably not the best idea…especially one that wanted to weaken his judgment before a showdown. "Something tells me, Peacock, that you don't care much about the betrayal of your species."

            "You're right again," Peacock conceded casually. "The Reploid race can rot for all I care. I'm here for a different reason."

            "To kill me," X finished. "So let's get this over with."

            "To kill you," Peacock allowed. "But you don't know why."

            "Nor do I care."

            "Ah, but you should." Peacock's voice boomed louder than it should have been able to. It resonated throughout the hollowed out room and even sent a chill down X's spine. There was something…strange about that voice. "If you don't find out soon, it'll be the death of this planet."

            "Now what are you blathering about?" X's impatience was finally tempered by a bit of curiosity.

            "It's easier for me to show you," the Maverick replied. The air in front of X began to shimmer, and out from nowhere sprang two energy images of X's foe, one green and one pink. They merged together and solidified into the form of Cyber Peacock, complete with his majestic green bladed feathers extended and his ornate, colorful armor…plus a mysterious V-strip of new black titanium on his torso.

            "Interesting makeover," X commented dryly. "Is there a point?"

            "Behold," Peacock said, just as blandly. He held out a hand…and from it sprang a thick beam of energy. X deftly sidestepped it and frowned at his attacker, but something prompted him to look to the right where the energy had passed him…and at that point there really was nothing left to do but watch. The energy bolt had rebounded, and was coming right back at him.

            "Jesus!" X exclaimed and jumped back, but he got nowhere before the energy slammed into him. He fell back…due to his own surprise. His body was wracked…with a tingly feeling. "What…what the hell?"

            Peacock was laughing it up. "What do you think? A homing laser without the targeting device. And one very frightened Mega Man X!"

            "Grow up!" X shouted, not quite able to believe what had just happened. "No, just…just die!" And with that he released the charged burst he'd been saving for the Maverick. It struck Peacock square in the chest and the flash of light briefly illuminated the room. Peacock let out a strangled, strangely scratchy cry, and vanished in a blur of dissipating pixels.

            X, on his feet, blinked at the sight in confusion. "What in the world?" he wondered aloud. A shimmer of energies behind him answered his question.

            "Oh boy!" Peacock was laughing even more. "You sure have some interesting looks on your face, X, I'll tell you that!"

            "You…" Some nerve in X's brain twitched, and as an experiment he brought up his gun and fired a normal shot that struck Peacock in the stomach. The bird grunted and shimmered, but was otherwise unharmed. "You're a holograph…?"

            "Are you surprised?" Cyber Peacock said with a grim, beaky smile. He pressed his hands together and three more images appeared at different parts of the room. X blinked once and found himself staring at four Cyber Peacocks, each looking at him with that same killing glare. "I've taken a lesson from Split Mushroom. Actually I took it long ago, when you defeated me with his Soul Body. I've learned from my mistakes."

            And he had. There was no way the Soul Body would attract all attacks from all four Peacocks. X couldn't use that strategy again. So, he decided to try another. "I've never heard of a lethal holograph before."

            On cue, each Peacock extended an arm and those beams of white light sprang from each one. They arched around X, who was weaving nimbly though the storm though mindful of each beam following him. The Peacocks were floating around the room, making it difficult for X to pull off a shot. More and more streaks of light were flying towards X, and his body was tingling enough to let him know that some of them were hitting.

            The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back and a searing pain filled his body, resonating from his back. He let out a choked groan of pain and struggled to lift himself to his feet while checking the energy drained by the attack…it was staggering. One of those lasers had been real…the real Cyber Peacock was there somewhere…and he was more powerful than ever.

            He was also laughing. "How did you like that, X?" all four birds asked wickedly. "It's amazing what a few upgrades can do to a Reploid, isn't it?"

            "Where did you get that power?" X asked incredulously.

            "What, can you think of no one else in this building who had such power?"

            X didn't make the connection. "Stop beating around the bush…!"

            "It's how I survived the fourth uprising," Peacock explained patiently. "I'm surprised you can't make the connection."

            "You didn't survive," X pointed out. "I killed you. Twice!"

            "No, X," Peacock said slowly as all four of him began gathering an orb of green energies in their hands. "You never killed me. And you only even fought me once." The room was more green than purple now, due to the light emitting from Peacock's unholy energy orbs. "You vanquished me in Cyberspace, but I never actually passed away. I was saved from death."

            "By who?" X asked, tensing for whatever the new attack might be.

            Green lightning flared as the balls of energy became charged to dangerous levels. "Ares," the Maverick answered the Hunter, and after that single word all hell broke lose.

            Each orb of energy grew into a pillar of energy—green sparkling supercharged energy. Each pillar slowly began taking itself down by sending fragments of themselves out as high voltage homing torpedoes. In two seconds the room was full of them. X would never remember much, but he did remember running…and running and running and running, all around the room, until finally it was like he hit an invisible wall. It seemed like all the energy in the world smashed into him, and he screamed in sudden pain as his world went green.

            X's next conscious thought was that he had never felt so wasted in his life. He absently ran a systems check, and found to his confusion that his armor was for the most part intact…but his internal energy had been devastated. In shock, X drained one of his two Sub-Tanks, restoring his energy but not his equilibrium. He got very slowly to his feet, his world a big blur, and the image he focused on was not four but one Cyber Peacock hovering in the distance.

            "Impressive," the bird said in awe. "That should have killed you."

            "Where…" X rasped, grabbing onto the wall for support. "How…?"

            "Would you like to know?" Peacock sneered. He began to levitate higher. "You left me for dead that first time, X, but Ares found me before the Reaper did."

            "Ares…" Something finally clicked in X's head. "Bit and Byte…!"

            "Yes," Peacock agreed with something of a condescending tone. "But Bit and Byte were not as fortunate as I. Ares came to all three of us at the brink of death…it's what he does. He can communicate with any sufficiently weakened Reploid he wants…within his range, that is, and I'm not about to tell you what _that _is. Once they accepted him into their minds, Ares accelerated the brothers' internal programs, most importantly their battle and self-repair systems, turning them into monsters who could hold more power than they had been designed to hold, and who could inflict devastating damage upon whoever they encountered. If there hadn't been so many of you, Godkarmachine would have won the day."

            "Don't get so cocky," X said, recovering his breath. "Accelerated power doesn't mean accelerated brains…or even better weaponry. I knew how they fought and I would have exploited their patterns to defeat them again."

            "Yes," Peacock agreed. "But do you know how I fight now?" X didn't and the Maverick knew it. "Bit and Byte were converted right here, shortly after you fought them that very first time. But I was converted during the fourth uprising, long ago. I pledged my allegiance and received incredible power in return."

            "Power for what?"

            Peacock's voice dropped a few decibels. "The power to create war." He let X rankle before continuing. "Ares is the very essence of war…it is his only purpose. If the world is not at war, then he is not doing his job."

            "What are you talking about?" X asked incredulously. "You think there's a guiding hand behind war?"

            "I know it! I'm living proof!" The Maverick fixed X with a piercing stare. "Ares revealed his plan to me, and it's genius. He has his four generals, but he is calling on any others who show promise. I left Sigma behind and created a Drone Clone of myself to send to Final Weapon…just so you wouldn't notice any difference in the regular routine. In the meantime I went to the hidden base of operations, and there Ares himself presented to me the armor I wear today, and with it the upgraded weapons systems I'm using on you."

            "And your nifty holograph program?"

            "That I came up with on my own. They're all computer generated, and designed to throw you off, and they're doing a very good job. I figured you would invade this fortress in the end, and it seemed like the perfect place to wait for you. I've waited years to have this battle, X…the battle where you first taste the power Ares brings to the table!"

            "What's so important about me?" X asked, fully recovered and starting to circle the blabbing Maverick.

            "You should know!" Kujacker shook his head. "You are the very essence of peace. It's all you live for, ending the wars and making everyone safe and happy. Ares will have none of that. You must be destroyed in order for Ares's plan to continue."

            "Then you're my assassin?" X asked with deliberate skepticism.

            "Yes! I am the first of many. For even if you defeat me, no one lasts forever. But don't worry," Peacock promised. "You won't prevail here. I've gone through every situation in my head. I've had the time!"

            "There's no substitute for the real thing," X pointed out, changing his arm cannon program to the 4-shot system and charging.

            "Indeed." Peacock warped away and reappeared with four others so X wouldn't know which was real. "It's time, X! Let's get this show on the road!"

            X needed no further encouragement. He raised his cannon and fired one charged blast at an enemy. It shorted out, but another one took its place a second later. Damn. X would have to be faster.

            The Peacocks began firing homing lasers as X charged his cannon back up to full. X, playing on a hunch, turned his infrared back on and looked for the laser giving off the most heat—oh boy! He threw himself to the ground just as it passed overhead and exploded into the wall behind him. Another laser took its place…many of them, as Cyber was shooting as fast as he could. X got up and raced right at the real laser, sidestepping at the last minute and firing a shot at the Peacock nearest him. It shorted out. X whirled and fired his second blast. Another clone died. The third shot went off…another died. And finally the fourth blast flew towards the true, startled and defenseless Peacock, striking him in the chest and throwing off his own equilibrium.

            "Not bad!" the Maverick complimented X as he warped away. "But I've got more tricks where that came from!" Four new Peacocks reappeared, and X prepared another attack, but something was different. The birds were…gathering together? Yes, they were all clustered, and their tail feathers were glowing as the green electricity sparked in between the blades like they were tasers. Something big was about to happen. "_Eat this, Hunter!_" Peacock shouted, and X could swear he heard a different voice intermingled.

            But X was already moving. As so often happened he was just acting, not thinking. He never even checked his Nova Strike meter…somehow he just knew it was full. It seemed like a horrifying gamble to him later on, but at the moment he just did it without considering anything. The wings on the back of his armor opened and the flaming white plasma erupted around his body as he sped towards the cluster of Mavericks with a great cry. The invincible body crash attack plowed right through the Mavericks just before they could unleash their killer lightning storm. He struck every single one at once, and when the energies died around X the heavy breathing Hunter turned sharply to behold…

            …Nothing. There was nothing there. But that didn't last long, and four new images appeared…but they were strikingly different. No longer did Peacock appear flawless and confident, but he was now charred and somewhat devastated.

            "How?" X gasped. "How could you survive a direct Nova Strike hit?"

"I'm no weakling like the brothers were, X!" Peacock declared. "I am a true emissary of Ares!" He broke off with a rattling cough. "Damn you!" he swore in a scratchy voice. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you?"

"I do," X replied coolly, recovering. His buster snapped back up into action and he loosed shots rapidly at the birds, who quickly counterattacked with last minute spurts of speed and their own white lasers. X again used his infrared to track the real lasers. He was hitting the enemies, and they were shorting out, but they reappeared as fast as lightning, and X realized that this couldn't go on forever. He began looking around the room for something he could use. He noted the curves in the wall, the ruined computer, the green orbs—

            The orbs! Acting purely on this hunch X enacted the greatest irony of his time thus far in Seraph Castle—the Aiming Laser. His armor turned to a purple hue and he focused on the orb he was running to. The birds didn't notice a thing and kept firing their lasers, and a second later X fired his. A targeting grid was focused on the orb and the Aiming Laser went right up to it with no chance of error. X held the beam steady for a second, which was all it took for the orb to explode in a shower of glass and sparks.

            "No!" the horrified Cyber Peacocks gasped…and one of the four clones shorted out. It was quickly replaced, but X had a good idea why—there were four enemies and one of them had to be the real Peacock, meaning there were three clones and four orbs…now there were three and three. X targeted another orb while Peacock was stunned by the irony of his own weapon being used against him. That orb shattered and a Cyber Peacock shorted out forever.

            "Damn you!" Peacock raged, gathering his remaining clones and charging their tail feathers for the electrical storm that would fry X to death. Expecting this X raced towards the Maverick again even though he had no Nova Strike charge ready. Peacock didn't know this, though, and in apprehension he warped away just before X approached. The Hunter quickly turned and locked onto another orb. A second later another Peacock vanished. There were two left.

            "You son of a bitch!" they shouted, and opted to just unleash a continual flow of lasers. X raced past them all, though the feeling of superheated lasers was coming closer and closer. X did NOT want to be hit again. Realizing their folly, the two Peacocks started gathering greenish energies to them just as X locked onto the final orb. A brief race began, and just as the energy orbs sparked with an overabundance of green lightning the final glass orb shattered. One Peacock remained…

            And one green energy storm filled the room.

            X forced himself to focus. He watched the spurts of energy that erupted from the green pillar and dodged them with greater ease now that there was only one pillar to worry about. He leapt nimbly from side to side; he air dashed, he pivoted; and all the while he took potshots at the rapidly hovering Peacock. Then, Kujacker pointed his hands at X and not one but two energy lasers flew out. X jerked to the right with a start but a bolt of green energy struck him in the chest and slammed him against the wall just as the lasers impacted the wall directly above him, bathing his world in intense white light. X hobbled away from the wall, again wracked with pain but not terribly depleted as far as generator power went.

            He then noticed that there was no sign of Cyber Peacock.

            X frowned in heavy breathed suspicion and began charging his weapon. He heard nothing and he saw nothing, except for the sparking portions of the walls where the holoprojector orbs had been earlier. Then he felt the air behind him shift ever so very slightly, and he surged forward with a quick burst from his dash boots.

            A second later and he would have been dead. Cyber Peacock sped into frenzied existence, his feather blades poised to slice X in half, but he wound up parting thin air. His head snapped up and cried out in futile hate as X leveled his head and buster at him, smiled, and fired the charged Aiming Laser.

            The thick, broad, concentrated laser beam exploded from X's buster like a huge, lightweight lightsaber. X swept the beam effortlessly into and through Peacock, parting him at the waist and slashing again vertically. The Maverick's generator exploded as he gave one final, agonized wail…

            And X was thrown against the wall, more winded by the explosion than ever before in his life. There was no way Peacock's generator should have had that much explosive power. Something else had to have…

            **"Your power…"**

            The voice came from nowhere and immediately X's spine went rigid. He forced himself to his senses and shook his head to clear the cobwebs, but still saw only a blur.

            **"Your power is…remarkable!"**

            "Where are you?" X asked, and to his annoyance his voice quavered.

            **"I am everywhere," **the voice said at length. It was a big, booming baritone, more commanding than anything X had ever heard, even from Sigma. **"I am everywhere there is a Reploid to embody me."**

"And you are…?"

            **"War, X. The essence you spoke of earlier."**

X stood bolt upright and the cobwebs vanished completely. "Ares!"

            **"You can call me that if you wish. Everyone else does."**

"What are you up to?"

            **"War, X,"** Ares explained patiently. His voice came from every corner of the room. It was as though the chamber itself were speaking to X. **"Didn't Kujacker explain it to you?"**

"He rattled off something about a maniac who wanted to perpetuate war in the world."

            **"That would be me."** The voice chuckled mirthlessly. **"But is it really so maniacal?"**

"Who are you supposed to be? Some relic of Sigma?"

            **"War, X." **Ares was most definitely smirking. **"And don't confuse me with anything Sigma could produce. I am beyond his power."**

"You don't expect me to believe you're some spirit," X said adamantly. "You really think you're the War God?"

            **"Why couldn't I be? Why the skepticism?"**

"That's foolish," X pointed out. "The ancient Greek religion is dead."

            **"And why is that?"**

"Because…because people no longer believe in it! Why do you think?"

            **"There are many aspects of history that are unrecorded," **Ares offered his counterpoint. **"Just because no one remembers them…just because no one _believes _in them…doesn't mean they didn't happen. Or look at a modern example. There are still those out there who believe a Jew named Jesus was the son of 'God'. But what happens if the religion suddenly falls into obscurity? Is this Christ no longer the Son of God, just because no one chooses to think so? The whole concept of a religion is that the deities are almighty. How can mere humans strip them of their status? How can you 'kill' a religion?"**

"You're not helping yourself. In effect what you're really saying that religion is just a convenient manifestation of the human mind."

            **"Well, wouldn't you agree?"**

"No, I would not." X smiled with deliberate innocence. "How would you know? Have you ever been to the other side?"

            Ares for once was forced to rethink his position. **"Even if such afterlives and deities exist for flesh and blood humans, with their so-called 'souls', it holds no effect for Reploids."**

"How would you know?" X asked again. "Have you ever been to the other side? And if you're so against the whole religion thing, how can you be the War God?"

            **"Did you really think I was?" **They were both quiet for a while. **"No, X, I am as much a Reploid as Kujacker was, only I'm very different as far as power goes. My sole mission is to perpetuate war, and I've got a bottomless bucket of tricks to aid my purpose."**

"Why?" X had to know. "Why would anyone live for such a thing? What can you possibly get out of it?"

            **"Why does it matter?" **Again there was silence before Ares continued. **"I must congratulate you on your victory. But don't get overly cocky."**

"Why not? I came out on top of your fair haired boy…err, bird."

            **"Oh, please." **Ares laughed. **"Kujacker was nothing more than a test. I hadn't placed much faith in him as an assassin." **At X's slight confusion Ares explained. **"Cyber Peacock had the brains, but not the brawn. I had originally intended to use him as a soldier based throughout the cyber networks that he'd previously trafficked in, but all he could think about was revenge. So, I granted him this new task, which was to find you and gauge your combat abilities…much as he'd done in Cyberspace that first time for Sigma."**

"But he didn't say anything about that," X pointed out.

            **"That's because he didn't know about it. Kujacker was never meant to be a combatant. I allowed him to think that he was my chosen one…my first assassin. I sent him to Seraph Castle where I knew you would someday arrive, and I allowed him to develop his new battle strategy while putting his talents to use for Sigma, which he continued to do till this day."**

"Sigma's dead," X pointed out.

            **"Is he?" **Now that really unsettled X, but Ares didn't allow any more questions. **"Kujacker was certainly capable of destroying you, and I would have been perfectly content if he had. But since I expected you to pull a victory out of your ass—as you did with Godkarmachine—I was gauging your abilities through Kujacker while you two fought. I must say, X, you are as deadly as the rumors go. All the more reason you must be destroyed."**

"Why kill me? So long as I'm around, Sigma will return to continue his wars."

            **"Sigma is a dying despot," **Ares said flatly. **"His influence is fading, along with his personal power. With each defeat he grows less and less able to restore himself. Unless something very significant happens, this will almost certainly be his final rebellion. I, on the other hand, am perfectly capable of launching my own attacks from the shadows for a very long time. You, X, are the face of peace. I am the face of war. We can never coexist! One of us must be snuffed out…it is the way the world works. Unless I kill you first, you will eventually find and eradicate me."**

"I'm glad you figured that out," X said. He even clapped his hands. "I owe you a cookie."

            **"Laugh while you can," **Ares said scathingly. **"The time will come soon, X, when the true meaning of 'war' will knock on your door. Kujacker was strong in the end, but he was nothing compared to Nova, Geode, Polar and Ultimus. But that's enough about them. You'll meet them face to face soon enough."**

"I can't wait," X said blandly. "If that will be all, Ares, I think I've had quite enough of you."

            **"Of course!" **Ares said cheerfully. **"I wish you luck, X. Mortar lies just ahead. You can get the real status of Megacity 5 from him."**

"I'll be sure to remember that," X said frostily.

            **"Till we meet again, X." **Ares bid him that foreboding farewell, and X turned and walked as briskly out the exit gate as he could. His body shivered, and try as he might he could not shake the thought. He knew it was stupid, he knew it was impossible, but it had still _happened…_

            During Ares's final, booming words…the very room itself had been glaring at X.

            It was safe.

            Commander Sigma breathed a sigh of relief as he left the sealed freight elevator. His Weapon hadn't been touched by any of the Hunter intruders. He might need it, he remembered.

            But he wouldn't need it now. All he was doing, the Maverick King thought as he double-checked the functionality of his lightsaber, was dispatching a few unruly Hunters who thought they could bring Seraph Castle down to the ground. Well, they'd soon learn differently.

            "Diavus, report," Sigma spoke into his communicator.

            "Diavus here, sir," the Maverick replied in a somewhat nervous voice. "We're approaching the foundation."

            "You'll meet them soon," Sigma told him after scanning the Seraph Castle mainframe. Every network in the castle was linked to his CPU, since every network in the building was actually infected with the Maverick Virus. "They're on their way now. I've activated the automated defenses," he told him, doing so. "How ready are you?"

            "Very ready," Diavus assured him. "Gerritt and I have secured Kangaroo ride armors, and Kismet and Loader are very capable on foot."

            "Yes, I'm quite aware. You have nothing to fear from X. He's on this floor, dueling Cyber Peacock as we speak."

            "How's it going?" Diavus asked out of turn.

            "It's indecisive so far," Sigma said briskly. "Don't worry about it. Concentrate on your own mission. You have five Hunters coming to meet you, and there's the four of you plus Android."

            "Is Android operational?"

            "Yes." Sigma thought a while. "It'll be waiting at the foundation level. When they try to plant their bombs, Android will come at them. I'd let them fight it out before moving in, otherwise you might box the Android in, and that will limit its usefulness. Come into the battle yourselves if it looks like Android isn't going to make it alone."

            "Yes sir." Diavus continued on in an even shakier manner. "Sir…what if we aren't able to stop them? How…how will we alert the rest of the base if…?"

            "I'll know if you fail." The tone of his voice suggested that Diavus better already be dead if he failed, if he knew what was good for him. "I'll meet you shortly. I have one last thing to take care of." The underling gulped and broke contact, leaving Sigma alone with his thoughts.

            "You get more interesting every day," said a voice in the Maverick's head.

            "Shut up," Sigma said aloud, striding pointedly to his destination.

            "Don't give me orders." The voice wasn't a voice at all, in the sense that it made no distinctive sound that Sigma could pick up on. He just knew what it was saying. It was easy, after all…he'd been living with it for years, and he had long since learned its bedside manner, or lack thereof.

            "Shut up," Sigma said again.

            "You're losing your commander's pride more and more with each passing day," the Maverick Virus mocked him. "A real commander would never threaten his troops like you just did."

            "Shut up," Sigma said again.

            "Maybe," the Virus hoped, "you're finally going to inch over that line I've been waiting for you to inch over?"

            "Shut up," Sigma said again. Neither of them ever tired of this. The Shut Up Game was a crucial part of Sigma's day, and he wouldn't be complete without it.

            "Give it up, Sigma!" the Virus sulked. The very humanness of the Virus used to continually impress Sigma, but now he'd gotten used to it and it passed without a thought. "You've had you chance. Four of them, if I remember correctly. When are you just going to give in to me? I need a host!" the Virus whined. "I need a real host, one without a bloody mind of its own."

            "Shut up," Sigma said cheerily, breezing through a manned gate and inadvertently terrifying a recruit who'd been about to salute him.

            "Come on!" the Virus whined even more. "There's been all this planning and all the bloodshed is happening away from us. How long are you going to keep us cooped up here in dire boredom? Am I going to have to go Kaiser on you again?"

            "That wouldn't help you much," Sigma said, tiring of the Shut Up Game. "There's no giant body laying around. Hold you horses, will you?" Not once did he think it was foolish to be talking to himself like this. The Virus transcended all realms of sanity anyway. "We'll be heading into combat soon enough. If those Hunters are as good as I think they are, Diavus will need our help to bring them down."

            "Hehehehe…" the Virus cackled mercilessly. "Blood, Sigma, there better be blood!"

            "There will be blood," Sigma promised, tiredly.

            "Lots of it!" the Virus pressed. "You know I like blood. I need it. It's pretty."

            "Shut up," Sigma said again. He'd come up with many a name for the Virus. Some mornings it was Githgarzad, when Sigma was very groggy and couldn't think of anything better. His favorite was Zeeberdoink. There was just something perfect about it. The Virus hated that name, though, and gave Sigma migraines whenever he brought it up. Sigma was past sanity and even past insanity, but he managed it rather well. He maintained his alternate self while preserving his own identity—something the Virus loathed—and was able to personally continue his quests for revolution. However Sigma had noticed a gradual decline in his powers lately. It was as though his personal identity was taking a backseat to the whims of the virus, something that scared him more than he would ever admit. In truth the real him would never threaten his soldiers with death as punishment for failure, and the real him would never even consider what he was about to do to The Team…the group that had served him with more loyalty than anyone had in years. 

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for them," the Virus mocked. "They're just pawns. They always were. First they belonged to Virdelko and Kitao, and then to Chartreuse, but Chartreuse gave them to you. He practically gift wrapped them for you!" 

            "Shut up!"

            "Nah. I think I'll continue." The Virus snickered to itself. "You know it's plausible, Sigma. You know it's the best way to go about things. Can you imagine how fiercely the assassins will fight after one of their own faces the reaper's scythe?"

            "It's a dirty trick," Sigma confessed. "It's the dirtiest trick of all."

            "It is evil," the Virus agreed. "It is evil, and you do it! Because you must, after all. You must kill X, and they will do it for you once the proper buttons are pushed. Even X is no match for the rage you will invoke in The Team. You see? You're becoming more like me every day."

Sigma moaned at that. He had to have some time to recover his personal strength if he meant to fight the Virus any further, and he figured that X and Zero weren't about to give him that time. Nevertheless, it was always easy to appease the Virus by engaging in combat, and soon Sigma would be able to fulfill that promise.

            "You're on the right track, as usual," the Virus praised him.

            "Shut up," Sigma said again.

            The elevator doors opened and Delates's crew was introduced to carnage.

            Acrystos was the first one out. With her energy pistol she fired round after round of paralyzing shots, dropping three of the Maverick sentries before her into unconscious paralysis. The mechaniloid tanks were less eager to submit. The energy surges from the scout's gun merely paralyzed their motor skills, but their cannons were leveled at the elevator to begin with.

            Cort leapt out of the elevator clear over Acrystos's head as the shells began impacting the walls. Flipping in midair he brought out his pistols and began unloading them into two of the three tanks, striking the turrets without fail. By now everyone had bailed from the smoking, wasted elevator. Tyclammel came up with his Gatlin gun arm cannon and launched a rapid fire spray of mini missiles that tore the tanks to shreds while they were busy locking onto Cort, who landed behind them with his coat flipping back like a cape and pressed both of his pistols on the back of the third tank's turret and fired at point blank, terminating that tank's program.

            By the time Delates stood up to dust himself off there was nothing left for him to do. Glumly he lowered his beam saber and scanned the area for further threats. Finding none he turned to tell Acrystos to look ahead but she was already doing so, vanishing into the gloom before them to do her job. "Okay," Delates said to Lyon, the demolitions expert. "What do we do now?"

            "We hit the bottom levels from this floor," the silver/gold Lyon replied easily. "I'll plant my charges while you guys hold off whatever's coming. Then we leave."

            "Hey boss," Tyclammel was asking, pointing to the three stunned sentries. "What do we do with them?"

            Two minutes later the three sentries had been dragged into the ruined elevator and the doors slammed shut. Delates didn't know if they'd be able to get out once the walls came a-tumblin' down, but he didn't want them coming up from behind so he didn't rightly care at the moment.

            "You guys," Acrystos's voice came up on the communicator. "I've found a chamber leading down. We're gonna have to bust through."

            "Any contacts?" Delates asked her.

            "No, not yet," the scout replied. "But I think you guys'd better hurry anyway. Something doesn't seem—" An explosion cut her off. "Shit!"

            "Acrystos?" Delates snapped bolt upright. "What's happening?"

            "Shit, shit, shit…" Acrystos repeated frantically, and it sounded like she was firing her weapon. "Get her!" said a female voice Delates didn't recognize. "Hurry!" Acrystos's voice shouted. "Hurry before—aah!" The transmission ended.

            For a while Unit 0 was quiet. Then Cort ejected the cartridges of both pistols and replaced them with fresh ones. "Why are we standing around?" he asked in his unflappably calm tone. Delates had no answer and a second later all the Hunters were careening down the hallways, throwing caution to the wind, their booster thrusters all on full power.

            The room Acrystos found was right in front of them on the path. Expecting the worst, the Hunters sped into the chamber—a large, undecorated room with a square steel panel in the floor that probably led down to the foundation level and two other hallways leading out, and a balcony level near the ceiling where they beheld…

            "Hold it right there!" the female voice growled down at them, adding a feline hiss at the end.

            Delates's head snapped up to see a white tiger Maverick with her already bloody claws pressed to Acrystos's throat. Acrystos couldn't even look at them. She was being pulled back by her hair and was struggling with all her force against the stronger Maverick, trying to pry the claws off her throat but only provoking Kismet into digging those claws into her hostage's neck lightly as a warning that always sent a shudder through the captive's body and eased her struggles for a while. How someone as stealthy as Acrystos had managed to get herself captured was a mystery to Delates, but that was obviously the case. The Huntress had bleeding slash marks in her right side where the tigress must have gotten her. Then Delates made the connection—this had to be an ambush. The Mavericks had known they were coming, and Acrystos had been unlucky enough to blunder alone into a room full of Mavericks who were bound to see her somehow, no matter how good a spy she was.

            The other Hunters were noticing the same thing. Gradually Delates began to notice forms in the shadows, hiding on the room's upper balconies. He turned on his infrared and made out shapes in the hallways leading into the chamber. Yes, it was an ambush…but at least they knew that. It might turn out pretty rough for Acrystos though, the squadron commander thought with a severe pang of guilt.

            The Huntress herself was beginning to show signs of her desperation. She'd all but given up resistance, mostly due to Kismet's little throat-cuttings and the fact that the Maverick had an arm wrapped firmly around the Huntress's waist, cruelly teasing Acrystos's side wounds with her razor sharp claws. At the sound of her comrades' arrival, though, Acrystos had regained some life, and Kismet was having more trouble holding her still.

            Cort holstered his pistols in his belt and stepped slowly forward. "Take it easy," he said coolly when Kismet visibly tensed. "You obviously want something."

            "Aren't you the bright one?" Kismet seethed, drawing her claws tight against Acrystos's side, evoking a little yelp from the helpless but nevertheless enraged captive. "I've been waiting a long time to get even with you Hunters."

            "It seems everyone has," Cort said with a bland smile, running a hand through his silver hair. His cold blue eyes had adopted a sort of conciliatory warmth and all his movements were slow, so as not to startle Kismet. Delates and the others began to be aware of movement in the upper rafters and balconies, and also in the hallways. If Cort noticed this or not he gave no indication, and instead maintained eye contact with Kismet. "What's _your _sob story?"

            The tigress laughed. "Your pet humans killed a friend of mine. His name was Fang." As they spoke the other Hunters took baby steps, getting into position and each picking an infrared target in the shadows.

            "It's too bad for him," Cort offered. "Shouldn't have been breaking the law."

            "The law!" Kismet spat. "Listen to you talking about law. It's you guys who are the lawless." She stopped and smiled cruelly. "But at least we captured your commander in the process."

            Everyone bristled except Cort, who remained collected. "So," he said, still conversational. "You were part of the team that captured Zero in the Sub-City."

            "Right." The tigress's toothy grin faded. "I don't know if he's been killed yet. But at least he'll get to look forward to seeing you when his time comes."

            "That's a bad idea," Cort pointed out, very quickly. "What's going to happen to you when you kill her?" That made Kismet stop and think before dragging her claws across Acrystos's throat, as she'd planned to. "You'll die, that's what. And then your friends here will die."

            Kismet's uncertainty died at that. So, the Hunters knew they were being set up…time to give the Mavericks their cue, then. There was no use wasting any more time. "Then I'll join Fang and the others."

            "Will you doom the others to death?" Cort asked, his voice rising.

            "Watch me!" Kismet snarled, determined to prove herself before this prick. She shifted Acrystos's madly struggling form to the right, to make it easier to drag her claws left across the Huntress's neck. There was nothing Acrystos could do to stop it.

            Cort transformed from a Reploid into a whirling dervish of black and silver. With speed that was almost unheard of even for Reploids he whipped his black coat to the side and drew a pistol with his left hand. His left arm snapped outward at Kismet's left side, slightly exposed due to her shifting of Acrystos, and Cort's gun barrel exploded once. Every Hunter held their breath as the adaman bullet shot through the air and breezed not a hair past Acrystos's cheek and tore into and through Kismet's left shoulder. She let out a feral shriek and her arm dropped, and that was all the blessings Acrystos needed. The Aegis agent twisted like a snake and pummeled her elbow repeatedly in the tigress's gut, foiling the rest of her hold. Then Acrystos spun around while reaching for the energy daggers Kismet had foolishly left on her person.

            The action had started all around the room. Cort spun to the right and with maddening skill shot an advancing Maverick through the forehead. He then fired two shots down the hall the Maverick had emerged from, and someone screamed. Tyclammel dove hard to the left and waited for a target to appear. Lyon's bazooka was ready to fire. Delates was keeping an eye on Acrystos, prepared to dash in if anything happened, but the Huntress was handling herself very well.

            The Maverick sentries didn't come out any more. Instead new vanguards approached…a raccoon Maverick and a humanoid in sleek black armor, both of them inside giant Kangaroo class ride armors.

            The Kangaroo armor was one of the more brutal, in-your-face types of mechas out there. It was a blandly decorated mecha with two key details: the massive mace claws that served as its fists. Gerritt, who until five minutes ago had been unfamiliar with any ride armors, managed to surge forth and attack. His right mace arm flew out of its socket and shot towards Tyclammel, who barely dodged in time and managed to counterattack with a spray of little missiles from his rapid-fire arm cannon. Each missile exploded uselessly against the mace arm, which was still hovering in the air and spinning rapidly, another function of the Kangaroo attack. The mace returned to its arm socket via a chain that dragged it back at Gerritt's command. Delates rushed Gerritt, hoping to take advantage of the ride armor's recovery period, but Diavus rushed forth in his own mecha, cutting the Hunter off with a sharp elbow from the machine's massive arm. Delates staggered back but dodged before Diavus got a mace shot off at him. Diavus, a much more experienced pilot, recovered and planned his next move.

            As for Kismet, she never really had much of a chance. Acrystos, who prided herself on surviving the most hostile atmospheres alone, had been stricken with a growing rage at allowing herself to be captured, and she focused her rage on her former captor. Kismet hissed, spraying blood from her lips as she felt the effects of Cort's remarkable shot, and her eyes went wild. The Maverick in her took over and she went into a frenzy, diving at Acrystos and tearing wildly at the Huntress. Acrystos met her with eyes of equal madness and lunged forward, her energy daggers flashing towards her opponent in rapid streaks that mangled Kismet's claws as she tried to defend herself.

            "Damn you!" the tigress roared, lunging towards Acrystos with her jaws wide open.

            "Just die," Acrystos seethed, and quick as lightning dropped a dagger and produced her stun pistol. Kismet had just enough time to twist her face up in surprise before her body went rigid in an electrical cage. Acrystos continued forward and drove her other blade into Kismet's chest, rupturing her generator. The Huntress kicked the Maverick tigress away just before her torso exploded, splattering scraps and coolant on the nearby walls. Acrystos holstered her pistol and picked up her fallen dagger, twisting away from a stream of gunfire from another Maverick foot soldier and leaping off the balcony she'd been held hostage on. Delates threw her a quick look of approval, but that was all the time they had before Diavus parted them by surging his Kangaroo their way.

            "This is child's play," Cort observed to himself, spinning away from the rifle fire that had threatened Acrystos. He brought both pistols up to bear, but then the craziest thing happened—a heavy weight crushed him from above. Flat on his face, Cort grunted in surprise as whatever was on top of him leapt off, crushing him further in the process. It didn't make sense until he looked up and saw a Maverick modeled after a cricket.

            "Nice try, John Wayne," Loader hissed. "But your games won't work with me."

            Cort didn't answer. Instead he forced himself to his feet, perhaps the most painful act of his life, and his body groaned in protest. It was a good move, however, as the Maverick soldier on the balcony unloaded his assault rifle on the spot where Cort had been laying. Loader laughed aloud in his raspy bug voice and leapt hard at the Hunter. Maddeningly accurate, Loader knocked Cort clear off his feet once more, though this time as he fell the Hunter curled into a ball while holding his right arm out towards the Maverick. He fired off three shots before his somersault was complete, and though he still landed on the ground he recovered much easier. None of his shots had struck anything, but Loader was sufficiently unsettled by them that he was stalling. It didn't much matter, though, because the Maverick on the balcony and another Maverick who'd crept out of a shady hallway were both leveling their weapons at Cort. There was no way they would miss. In desperation, even as he was standing back up Cort tore his coat off and flung it around and up, cluttering up the Mavericks' line of fire. Unable to focus on an actual target the Mavericks just started shooting. Cort took a hit in the leg and a hit in the side, but they weren't bad wounds. They stung like hell, but he could live with them, and he was just glad he hadn't been hit in an arm. He'd rather limp than be unable to shoot.

            The Maverick on the balcony realigned his shots. He'd been focusing only on Cort all this long while. While the silver haired Hunter considered what in the hell to do next—he had a Maverick to his left, a Maverick to his right, and now Loader springing right at him—a bulky projectile streaked through the air towards the suddenly horrified Maverick on the balcony. The shot wasn't accurate but that hardly mattered with bazookas. The explosion tore that section of the balcony to bits, and the Maverick with it. Cort immediately dove hard to the now safe left while extending a pistol to the right, firing two adaman bullets through the storm of the Maverick's lasers, killing the target but receiving more minor wounds himself. Loader passed right by him, and Cort had the chance to look up and see Lyon smiling as he rearmed his bazooka, its barrel still smoking.

            Gerritt was more comfortable with his ride armor now. He joined Diavus in cornering Delates and Acrystos, sending his mace arms out frequently, and perhaps too frequently. He didn't notice the Hunters exchanging glances, and so didn't expect it when they both dove to opposite directions and ran around the ride armors. Gerritt pulled off a speedy but awkward turn just in time to make eye contact with the cut up but still frenzied Acrystos as she approached.

            "Oh, my god!" the raccoon breathed as he recognized the woman from the radar base.

            Acrystos stopped dead in her tracks. "It's you!" she gasped, staring at the Reploid who'd shot Damia. Then her eyes glowed with rage again, rage that if anything was now amplified. "You should have died when you had the chance, you bastard! Now I'm gonna make you regret living!"

            "I should have died?" Gerritt raged right back, trying to mask his fear as he threw the Kangaroo into full battle mode. "_I _should have died?! You killed them all! You killed everyone at that base, and you enjoyed it!" Kangaroo's gauntlet narrowly skimmed past Acrystos, whose daggers flared uselessly against the nearly indestructible maces. "Your commander was having a ball on that machine gun, mowing down my friends! You're the monster! You should die!"

            But Acrystos had no such plans. She'd sacrificed more for the Hunters than she'd ever imagined when she'd joined, and she prided herself on her effectiveness, a sentiment that probably came from her stellar performance as an Aegis special agent working with Castle during the Repliforce insurgence. Together they'd infiltrated Web Spider's jungle hideaway and sabotaged his Phalanx cannon to buy time for X, who would invade later. They'd cooperated to infiltrate DELTA, a Repliforce infantry camp rumored to be impenetrable in the early phases of the war. They'd crept aboard Storm Owl's massive floating wall of airships, sabotaging the mothership _Impervious _and lowering defenses so that the main guns could bring the aerial unit down. And finally, they'd sabotaged some of the Repliforce escape shuttles at the Spaceport, where Repliforce order collapsed as soon as Zero killed Colonel. A vengeful Repliforce Major had activated the Spaceport missiles—used to intercept disabled craft that might crash somewhere in the city—and turned them on the Hunter HQ. Castle had stopped the Major while Acrystos kept the Major's guards busy. That was their crowning achievement. Throughout it all Acrystos had never gone easy on herself for failing at anything, and she'd definitely failed her commander when Gerritt shot her. Damia was as important to her as Castle was and she'd be damned if she was going to let this stupid raccoon get the better of her…not after what he'd done.

            Gerritt spun around and with a cry of vengeance unleashed both mace gauntlets at Acrystos. She threw herself to the ground and let them pass overhead. Then she snapped to her feet with a cry of her own and slashed an energy blade clear through the adamantine chain that connected Gerritt's right gauntlet to the Kangaroo arm socket. The sudden loss of weight threw the Kangaroo sharply to the left. Surprised, Gerritt quickly retracted the other mace while trying to dash out of the way of further harm, but this only threw him further off balance. Acrystos was about to take advantage of this when someone bellowed her name. It was Lyon.

            Acrystos threw herself hard to the right as Lyon's bazooka shell sped past her. It exploded into the bewildered Gerritt's mecha and completely destroyed whatever balance the machine had left. The battered ride armor fell hard on its side, spilling Gerritt out of the rider's compartment. The raccoon was stunned, but not for long. Knowing what had to await him if he just sat there he sprang to his feet and ran for the cover of the shaded halls he'd entered from, abandoning his useless Kangaroo.

            Diavus was giving Delates a much harder time. The skillful pilot made the bulky Kangaroo perform evasive measures that bewildered even Delates, also a skilled pilot.

            "It's no use, Hunters!" Diavus was shouting, trying to encourage his floundering comrades. "Just give it up and let's skip all this crap and get right to the point!"

            "Now you're talking," Delates smiled and pointed his charged arm cannon at Diavus in the pilot's seat. Diavus glowered and sped to the right just as the blast slammed into the Kangaroo's torso. The machine sparked but easily withstood the blast. Still glowering, Diavus dashed at Delates while shooting out a gauntlet. The projectile wrapped around the Hunter's position as Diavus continued his turn, and Delates might have been screwed if the back of Diavus's ride armor hadn't suddenly exploded.

            "I was wondering when that would go off," Lyon mused loudly, referring to the mine he must have slapped on the Kangaroo's back while Diavus was occupied. The demolitions expert then went back to lining up his bazooka at a different target, which at the time happened to be Gerritt's Kangaroo.

            "Damn," Diavus said as Gerritt was ejected from his cockpit. Things weren't going so well. They'd lost two ride armors and they'd lost Kismet entirely, along with all the other Mavericks they'd gotten to come with them on this suicide mission. And there was still no sign of Sigma! Where in the hell was that son of a bitch, while the soldiers who were doing his bidding were getting slaughtered? Intending to buy time for Gerritt, who was running madly for the shadows, Diavus prepared his Kangaroo to tackle the Hunters that now outnumbered him, if only for a little while.

            Every shot Cort fired at Loader missed the high hopping Maverick, much to the gunman's chagrin. "You're just as bad as your boss was!" Loader was taunting him. "For all his fame Zero was a piece of cake to capture!"

            "So you were a part of that crowd too," Cort stated, dodging the cricket as he tried to come down and smash him with his powerful legs. "I'll send you to meet your friend, then."

            "Doubtful, Hunter!" Loader sneered right back and prepared another jump. He was right, because it wasn't Cort who attacked him. Delates abandoned Diavus and raced towards Loader's back, his sword drawn. The cricket realized that something was up the second Delates leapt on his back, just as Loader jumped. The two of them rocketed high into the air, much too high for Delates's liking, but the Hunter forced himself to ignore the height and his boot thrusters flared to life, carrying them through the air towards the Hunter's target. "You bastard!" Loader rasped as he fought futilely. They were descending now. On the ground, Diavus charged towards Acrystos, Tyclammel and Lyon and sent a gauntlet at the former two. He struck Tyclammel in the chest but it was only the tip of a mace spike that made contact, and Tyclammel just staggered back a few steps, his planned missile salvo ruined. Diavus completed his dash and the ride armor took a second to recover. Loader pulled his feet in to kick the Hunter off him, but a second before the Maverick could get off his attack the Hunter did the same thing first, and kicked the cricket into a nearby wall as he careened himself down hard towards the remaining ride armor, his sword pointing down. His lightsaber crashed into the back of Diavus's ride armor with Delates, and the Hunter dragged a vertical line deep through the machine's damaged back armor and cleaving a gash in the right side of Diavus's lower back. The Maverick yelped in pain and surprise, but kept enough wits to eject himself from the dying ride armor, which flared and began to violently short circuit even as Delates dashed away from it.

            Diavus staggered towards the hallways Gerritt had fled into, feeling much like a whipped dog. Their ambush had failed…completely and miserably. On the other side of the room a suddenly frightened Loader made quick leaps across the room to another hallway and disappeared also.

            Cort and Tyclammel had their weapons leveled towards the hallway but Delates stopped them with a wave of his hand. "We have a mission to complete," the tired leader said.

            "Yes we do," Lyon agreed, strapping his bazooka to his back while Cort and Tyclammel kept watch on the hallways with their infrared sensors to make sure no one would try to snipe Lyon while he set the charges that would blow open the steel gate in the floor leading to the foundation level.

            "Are you alright?" Delates asked Acrystos once he was sure that the others were handling the situation.

            The Huntress was crouched down on one knee, breathing heavily as though there weren't enough air in the world. The fire in her eyes had faded and she was slowly coming back to reality, and reality sucked. She'd fed her fire off energy that had been endless while in her frenzy, but now she was paying for that benefit via this sick and breathless state of being. "Give me a minute," she managed, setting her deactivated daggers on the floor and using a hand as further support. Delates sheathed his lightsaber and crouched down next to her, his arm cannon activated as he glanced for further threats but also glanced at his comrade's wounds. "They're just scratches," Acrystos assured him.

            "You sure?" Delates asked, touching her side below the nasty looking wounds Kismet had inflicted while torturing her captive to pass the time.

            "My energy isn't low or anything," she assured him. "It just hurts."

            "Take it easy," he advised unnecessarily, and that's what she did until she recovered enough of her breath that she could stand up slowly.

            "Ever do that before?" she had to ask him.

            "What?" Delates asked, helping her to her feet.

            "That frenzy…" Acrystos seemed awed by it. "That trance…"

            "It's been called the Maverick Trance," Delates said with a thin smile. "Mavs are the ones who experience it most frequently, mostly because their hostility levels are so high due to that blasted Virus."

            "I'm no Maverick," she said forcefully. "But I am prone to that rage…in the Spaceport I went totally berserk on Major Mondo's guards. Killed 'em all with simple energy daggers, just like that tigress. Castle found me seething after he killed Mondo, and he had to actually subdue me."

            "PMS," Delates quipped, earning a punch in the arm.

            "Seriously." Her voice dropped. "Do you think it's anything serious?"

            The emerald Hunter shook his head confidently. "You're just as soldier, Crys. That's all there is to it. You were born to fight, and you do it well. It's a good thing, too. If those soldiers had been able to reinforce Major Mondo he might have killed Castle, and then the Hunter HQ might have been vaporized by missiles."

            "But the same thing is happening now," she pointed out, deflating.

            "That's what we're here to stop," Lyon broke in, stepping back from the steel gate. "I suggest you all take cover. This is gonna be a big one."

            Diavus leaned hard against the wall and sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm himself down. How in the hell had it all fallen apart? Both Kangaroos deactivated…himself wounded…Kismet DEAD…all he had now was Loader and Gerritt, and Gerritt wasn't the best at head on combat. Actually it was only Loader who would be of any use, Diavus realized glumly. His own back wound was too serious for him to be able to fight effectively with a sword. But that, he thought, was what Crosshair was for. The sniper rifle, disassembled into pieces kept on his belt, had been with him since birth. He was as adept at firing Crosshair as he was at breathing. They could make a second strike, and reinforce Android, which was waiting below. Damn it, Diavus thought, THAT was where the battle should have happened, but the Hunters had been coming too fast! Without Android as reinforcement they had been seriously disadvantaged.

            A thundering explosion distracted his attention. "Damn," he moaned. The Hunters were going to the foundation.

            Zero was beginning to wonder when the darkness would end when all of a sudden it did. A faint beam of light penetrated the shadows of the ventilation shaft and the Hunter crawled as quietly as he could towards it. It was coming in through a grate in the ceiling…the Hunter imagined he could kick his way through it and descend to the room below.

            But first he decided to do a bit of reconnaissance. The light was extremely faint and came from the center of the room—Zero's shaft was in the corner along the right wall. Directly below him he could see nothing but more darkness. He wondered if it was even a room. But yes, it had to be a room, because he could make out the floor from the faint light. He turned on his infrared and did a scan of the area below him. At first he saw nothing, but then he picked up on a life form almost directly below him. It was humanoid, and rather svelte…and female, he noted at last. No, he thought, it couldn't already be—

            He put too much weight on the grate and it gave in. Seraph Castle was not big on maintenance. He was unable to restrain a yelp as he fell out of the ventilation shaft, making all the noise in the world, and flopped like a fish out of water onto the hard floor below him. The wind was knocked out of him and he lay there stunned for a brief few seconds.

            Teytha had been ready for an intruder from the gateway, but not from above. As such she whirled in shock at the sound of the shaft collapsing and then she leapt back in deeper shock as something big and heavy crashed down not two inches from the toes of her boots. She, too, was stunned for a brief few seconds. She was stunned further when the faint light revealed that her opponent had glimmering golden hair and red armor, and was not at all the blue armored warrior she'd been expecting.

            Zero lurched to his feet as quickly as he could and made eye contact with Teytha of Terrornova. Without saying a word the assassin's two blades came to life, each pulsating with red energies. The conventional "rod" lightsaber was menacing enough, but the ornate gold one with the scimitar blade was even nastier. The light from the swords illuminated her blue eyes, which were now as cold as an Antarctic wind. The Maverick Hunter unconsciously activated Surge's green lightsaber, hoping to Christ it would avail him against this enemy, who he remembered from X's description was an absolute demon when it came to speedy swordplay.

            There were no words that could be said. There was nothing Teytha wanted to say anyway, and she tensed to get the battle started and over with as soon as possible. Zero didn't want that. He had no desire to fight this woman. But he had no choice, he realized, seeing the look in Teytha's eyes. No matter what he did, he was always left with one choice…to kill.

            Teytha sped towards him with a hiss and slashed both sabers his way at once, one high and one low. Zero brought his saber up from the ground to strike her low sword and carry through to the high one, but the nimble Maverick stopped slashing horizontally and came up and down vertically, knocking Zero's rising sword astray. She kept going with her feet and kicked herself off Zero's chest, rocketing herself away from a counterattack and unsettling Zero terribly. When the Hunter looked up all he could see was two flickering red blades moving at cheetah speed throughout the shadows.

            _This isn't so bad,_ he told himself, keeping himself moving. He watched the glowing sabers in the distance and tried to follow them. And then all of a sudden things went completely to hell.

            Teytha came at him seemingly from nowhere, like a bat from hell. She even left a trail of fire behind her. _Oh, _Zero realized, too late. She had accelerators in her boots. Great! Even more speed for her when she needed it! Zero brought his saber up to stop the first blow…

            …And oh God, it was wild from that point on.

            The assassin's breath hissed out from her lips as she sped around Zero and took the "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee" strategy to the extreme. Zero spun to the left, to the right, to the bottom left, to the top right, to the bottom right—no, it was to the TOP right—

            Too late. He reeled in pain as the scimitar saber ate into his shoulder armor and sent a burning feeling throughout his body. Teytha gave him a little victorious laugh and tried to stab the other sword through Zero's chest. He foiled her by dropping to the floor and employing his own leg thrusters just as he reached out and grabbed Teytha by an ankle. They were both dragged across the floor when Zero's thrusters came to life. He let go of her shortly after hitting the ground, mostly from the shock of impact, and quickly scampered to his feet around the same time she did.

            "Damn you," Zero growled at her, nursing his shoulder wound while tensing for further attack. "Knock it off, will ya? We don't need to be doing this!"

            She gave no sign that she heard him, and she darted at him again, approaching like wildfire and attacking in a similar manner. Zero parried high, and low, and to the lower right and upper left _at the same time_, and then low, high, right, high right and low right, and Jesus Christ he would _never _defeat her like this and OWCH that hurt! The Hunter sprang back again, this time with a cut on his outer right thigh. Teytha gave him absolutely no quarter, rushing at him with a vengeance and cleaving both of her nasty swords at him with murderous intent. Zero's thrusters flared and with a roar he sped right at her, hoping the direct rush would unsettle her, since she was much weaker physically than he was.

            He had no such luck. Teytha spun hard to the right as soon as she realized what was going on and slammed her scimitar hard into Zero's falling blade. The flare of light filled the room, and when it died both combatants were many steps away from each other. Teytha turned and closed the distance almost immediately, and resumed her campaign of ruthless strikes…all the while uttering not one single word other than her battle cries.

            Zero couldn't remember a time when he'd been so overwhelmed. This girl was absolutely tireless. It seemed like nothing slowed her down. She had no discernable patterns to her attacks and the fact that she had two swords effectively canceled out every strategy that Zero could come up with…except one. Teytha always came in close to attack…she had to. Zero COULD defeat her by pulling off a Rakkouha attack right when she came in to strike. The beams of light would take her by surprise and drop her like a sack of bricks…a very dead sack of bricks. But…was that the kind of victory he wanted?

            _You don't have a choice!_ Logic and Conscience both raged at once. _Every one of your special attacks will do her in. And hell, she'll probably even find a way to weather most of them anyway! There's no way out of this one._

            "No!" he protested aloud, though weakly. He sped past her again, but this time stuck out his boot and caught her in the side before she had the time to dodge. Grunting, she staggered sideways but collected herself admirably quickly. "Enough!" Zero bellowed at her. "Dammit Teytha, you're not the one I want to fight!"

            Something flickered in her eyes then, but it died just as quickly as it had been born. She shook her raven-haired head and accelerator-dashed towards him with an even louder battle cry, slashing hard with both weapons. Zero met her with his own barrage. He had to try to get on the offensive…somehow, if he could just damage her, the fight might come to a close…

            _Who are you kidding?_ Logic chided him. _She's got mad skills and two lightsabers. You can only hope to hold her off until she gets tired. Where are your skills? Where are those sword maneuvers you used to prevail against your other opponents, like Sigma back in the days when you trained together, or Agile when you were running from the X-Hunters in their base? Hell, where are the skills you used to defend against Colonel, before you decided to blow his ass up?_

            Zero answered them by meeting Teytha with a cry of his own and swinging his weapon into full service. He started meeting each of her attacks as they came, even when they came at once. The warrior Zero started taking over, and he let it do so. His mind became focused on the combat at hand, and all his thought became bent on finding ways to strike or defeat his opponent. Teytha instantly realized the change in Zero's demeanor and instinctively became more guarded in her attack structure. She knew his counterattacks were getting stronger and she knew he was going to use his superior strength to knock her off balance, so she played on that. She sent both her swords up weakly towards his chest, and with her speed came the illusion of effort. Zero's counterattack sent both weapons flying backwards, surprising the Hunter and encouraging him to carry through with his attack…just as Teytha pulled off her real attack, and swung both swords right back at him with all the force she could muster.

            The weapons cut into Zero's chest armor and the big Reploid let out an enraged roar as he stumbled past the Maverick, who quickly danced away from her target lest he pull off a counterattack. She didn't dance far enough. Zero pivoted on his heel and thrust Surge's lightsaber out at the Maverick. "Rajingeki!" he shouted, and the saber's blade extended while flaring with white electrical energy. The tip struck Teytha and sent her reeling back with a sharp yelp as tendrils of white painful power snaked around her body.

            "Are you done with this stupid game yet?" Zero asked, much too harshly to accomplish anything.

            The electricity on Teytha's body turned suddenly from white to red, and then Zero got his answer. The electricity gathered on Teytha's fists, and the slender assassin took two steps forward while spinning on the tips of her toes like a top and flung her arms out at Zero. Blasts of red electricity shot out and struck the dumbfounded Hunter dead on, and with a cry of his own he staggered backward, clutching his aching skull with his free hand while the volts burned into his system. Zero then horrified himself when he tripped over his own feet whilst staggering and fell flat on his back. He looked up, stiff from the electricity and further horrified because of it, and saw his would-be killer rushing towards him to strike a killing blow. He barely managed to get his somewhat paralyzed boot thrusters to activate and carry him across the floor away from Teytha just as she swung down at him. Unlike most in that situation, Teytha didn't lose her balance because of swinging with all her force and hitting thin air. Instead, she played right along with the situation and cartwheeled herself forward, springing down at Zero from the air. As the final cords of crimson electricity faded from his equally crimson armor, Zero brought his feet up and extended them into the descending Maverick, sending her flying back the way she'd come.

            Teytha backflipped through the air and landed on her feet, if not somewhat winded. Zero was on his feet as well, shaking his head frantically to clear it of the pain…and of the red haze that Teytha's attack had instigated. It was the same red haze that had guided his sword through Colonel's body and through the crystal that became Iris's life source. It was the same red haze that, if he wasn't careful, would—

            "_No!" _He stuck his opened hand out at Teytha, pleading for her to stop. "This is a mistake, dammit! It's your boss who's my target! Not you! Don't you get it?" He asked her when she didn't respond, didn't move, didn't even blink. "I don't want you dead!" Dead silence. Teytha's azure eyes narrowed at her enemy as she sucked in breaths to replace the wind Zero had just knocked out of her. She was standing right under the dim white ceiling light, and Zero made out her physical features more easily. Her sparse armor consisted of shoulder epaulets and a thick breastplate to guard her generator, a plate that followed her ribcage down and ended above her stomach. She also wore thin wrist gauntlets and thin, small boots. All the armor was a gleaming alabaster white, and below it was her light blue bodysuit that covered everything else in a slight layer of protection. Her head lacked a helmet, and her shoulder-length black hair wasn't even tied back. It ran as wild and free as the rest of her. A shroud of cold vehemence masked her normally pretty face. It almost made Zero shudder to look at her. 

            And then, finally, she said something.

            "So I should let you march on through here, is that it?" she asked, with a voice just as cold as her eyes. "I should let you march through here and kill my commander?"

            "Sigma is a murderer," Zero insisted.

            "So are we," Teytha challenged coolly, twirling her swords in her fingertips in an almost casual manner. "I'm a murderer. I killed innocent people all the time. We all killed innocent people, like your friend Mea."

            "That wasn't your choice!"

            "But we did it!" she said in an agonized voice. "Do you know what that's like? In the first months of our lives we had blood on our hands! We were prisoners of the law before and after we were prisoners of the humans, but we survived! Together!" She glared at him. "And now you want me to sell out my comrades?"

            "Is Sigma your comrade?" Zero asked skeptically.

            "He took us in when no one else would!" Her voice cut right into him with its correctness. "He gave us a purpose, a reason to live when all we had were reasons to die! We rooted for him when he broke away from you in the first uprising. We prayed every day that he'd butcher every last Hunter and human. He was a hero! A hero to every oppressed Reploid, and God knows there were more of us oppressed than those of us who were free. Did you ever leave the Hunter camp for an extended time, Zero, in those early days? Of course not! If you had you would have been subject to the brutal prejudices that caused the uprisings. You were pampered because you were a Hunter. The humans _needed_ you. You were one of their fair-haired boys, their prized possessions. They couldn't risk losing you. Unlike Sigma, who saw through the bullshit, you stayed. You stayed under the humans' thumbs while Sigma and the others tried to _do _something about the humans. You sold out your own race!"

            "To stop GENOCIDE!" Zero raged. "Sigma was and is a _madman!_ The purpose for the revolution should have been about equality, not mass murder! And that's all it was! It was an excuse to kill people Sigma didn't like while elevating his own popularity, a genocidal scheme he justified with some delusion of grandeur. You can't blame the whole for the deeds of the few. That's what the humans needed to learn and still need to learn about Reploids: just because there are some Mavericks doesn't mean that all Reploids are threats to humans. And similarly just because some humans are assholes doesn't mean that all humans want Reploids to be their slaves! Sigma doesn't care about a revolution! I don't know if he ever really did, and even if so it's nothing anymore because all he is now is just a slave to that damned virus!"

            "And without him?" Teytha asked him quietly. "What will happen when Sigma goes away?" The air chilled. The red haze in Zero's eyes changed to a black one. His mind was transported weeks into the past, and he was no longer talking to this assassin but to a different one, a seemingly older one.

            "What will happen when Sigma is finally defeated?" a spectral Mortar asked him. "What will happen when there is no one to organize Reploids into a fighting force? What will happen when the humans no longer need to comfort the Reploids and coax them into being pro-human?" Mortar's brow furrowed. "You and your friends will die, that's what! You're too powerful. Reploids themselves are too powerful. Terrornova will return, Zero. Oh the name will be different, and the people pulling the strings will change, but the concept will remain very much in tact. Do you really think the humans will allow another Sigma to come into the picture?" The specter laughed. "Any Reploids with strength and leadership capabilities will be eliminated, thus removing any possible revolutionary leaders for when the Reploids find themselves suddenly under new restrictive measures."

            "Do you see?" Teytha finished as the specter vanished and Zero came back to the present. "Sigma IS the savior of the Reploids."

            "He is a madman," Zero reiterated, though hoarsely. "He's even stooped to using _nukes_!"

            "A plan that we employed proudly!" Teytha declared. "That much was personal. We surgically removed the biggest threat to our safety."

            "_Icarus?_" Zero guessed immediately. "The Megacity flagship?"

            "It's gone," Teytha told him with a haunting smile. "Lost in nuclear fire."

            The red haze returned. It had happened, then. Sigma's _Gallagher _had reached Megacity 5 and the Buzzbombs had flown. But if _Icarus _was gone… "What about our headquarters?" Zero asked, managing to stop his voice from quaking.

            Teytha briefly debated lying, but instead just shrugged her shoulders and told him the truth. "The first Buzzbomb hit it, but it failed to detonate. Your house has a big hole in it, but otherwise it's still standing. See?" she said with a sad smile. "I told you we were murderers."

            Every instinct in Zero's body told him to rush forward and cleave this evil girl into bits and pieces, but one little thing stopped him: it was the way Teytha had smiled when she said her last piece. A true Maverick would have absolutely relished the use of nukes on a Hunter establishment. They would have proudly claimed responsibility for eliminating the Hunter threats. But something on Teytha's face and in her eyes told Zero all he needed to know about her disposition, and the blinding red haze subsided a little bit.

            "You don't want a part of this," he stated flatly.

            Teytha took a sudden step backward and blinked. "What?"

            "This isn't what you want," Zero restated, understanding her as he straightened his stance. "You don't want to kill anyone else. You want to go off somewhere and live a quiet life away from all this bullshit."

            "What?" she asked again, though this time her voice was harsh and guarded. "You…how could you even pretend to understand me? You know nothing!"

            "But I do, don't I?" he pressed, sensing her weakness. "You don't want to be the murderer you say you are."

            "Well who the hell does?" she asked quickly.

            "Sigma," Zero answered her even quicker, and the trap closed. Teytha blinked again and fixed him with an incredulous look. "You know I'm right," he said calmly. "The whole theme of his uprisings has always been 'Let's Kill All The Humans And Have A Beer Afterwards!' Killing people is all he lives for. HE wants to be a murderer. It's all he's got left." He moved in for the kill. "You've pledged your loyalty to someone with the complete opposite motives as your own. You're only here because your friends are, and even they don't know what the hell they're doing here."

            Her retort caught in her throat and she stepped back further, shaking her head slowly. "What does it matter?" she finally whispered. Zero's audio circuits picked it up easily. "We had to do this. Without Kitao and Virdelko…and Chartreuse…Terrornova can finally die. We had to stop them…"

            "But did you?" Zero challenged her.

            She couldn't answer. She just kept shaking her head. "You never would understand…" Suddenly she straightened up. Her voice became strong once more and her eyes burned with something that if was not malice was definitely resolution. "I can't sell out my commander."

            "And I can't let him leave this place alive," Zero said right back, feeling everything crash around him.

            Teytha confirmed his fears with another sad smile. "Then we have nothing further to discuss."

            Zero barely had time to dodge before another bolt of red lightning streaked past him. Teytha sprang back into action right away, her swords singing as they clanged into Zero's own. The reluctant Hunter countered every move she threw, though it was getting increasingly harder to do so. He had been so close to talking her out of this, but now…

            He reeled again, a sharp pain now burning into his left side. She'd gotten him again.

            _Stop this madness! _Logic shouted. _She's going to kill you if you don't kill her first! Didn't you hear her? There's no way out of this!_

_            He's right,_ Conscience agreed sullenly. _She's giving you no quarter. She's fighting for her own principles…and if you want to succeed in your own…if you want to stop Sigma…there's no choice._

            _You've got to fight her._

            "_DAMN!"_ he raged aloud with tortured acceptance of his complete inability to change a goddamned thing about himself. The cry was enough to root Teytha to the floor in confused wariness. Zero took quick advantage of the scenario by rocketing towards her with a powerful elbow rush that knocked her silly. His sword flew out towards her, but somehow she parried the blow before falling over. She rebounded immediately and her thrusters carried her across the room away from the suddenly frenzied Hunter.

            Teytha didn't know what the hell had happened to her opponent, but she had a feeling that the Great Swordsman of legend was about to make an appearance. Adopting a new strategy, she activated the generators in her small wrist gauntlets and charged her fists with her innate electrical strength. She dashed back away from Zero, who had closed the distance already much as she had done in the earlier parts of the battle, and then she transformed into a living top. She spun around on her toes…and around, and around, and around, each time throwing an arm out and sending a bolt of red lightning flying at Zero.

            Zero all of a sudden was surrounded by a lot of red. The energy Teytha was throwing could be poetically described as bleeding light. The room itself flashed blood red whenever the energy flew from the Maverick's fists. And to top it off, Zero's mind was just one big red blur now. A streak of energy struck him dead in the center of his chest, and he fell electrocuted to the ground in a big screaming mess of red armor and tattered hair, his body rattling like a tin can as the electrical energies seized him.

            _Kill…_

"What…?"

            _Destroy…_

"No…"

            _Eliminate…_

            "No…!"

            _Eliminate her!_

"NO!"

            But there was no way out this time. His tortured body exploded with anger, the same anger that had carried him to each and every one of his past victories. He snapped to his feet, determined to stop the pain, determined to stop this Maverick in her tracks. …And yet, there was still something left inside of him that resisted.

            _You fool!_ It was a new voice. Logic and Conscience had both turned against him now. They'd merged into something completely different, something that only wanted one thing: vengeance. _You heard her! Lives have been lost because of her. Your friends are DEAD because of her!_

            "Stop…"

            "How can you stop?" It wasn't just a voice anymore. It was a person. It was a person in a white lab coat with wild white hair, grinning with his teeth and eyes. "They fired a Buzzbomb, Zero! They fired a nuclear weapon at your allies inside _Icarus_! They DESTROYED them, Zero!"

            "They weren't allies! Virdelko and Kitao and Chartreuse were all my enemies! They killed Mea and they killed god knows how many others, and they would have killed again!"

            "And what about the HQ, Zero?" Dr. Wily asked smugly. She wanted all of them to die in nuclear fire. She wanted to kill Signas. She wanted to kill Douglas. She wanted to kill Tiberius and Caligula. She even wanted to kill Dr. Cain."

            "Nooo…" That defeated him and he knew it, and it was absolutely agonizing.

            "Yes, Dr. Cain, the best friend the Reploids ever had. Dr. Cain, the man who has been the father I wasn't able to be. Dr. Cain…the only reason you're still sane. She wanted him DEAD! And he may BE dead! Just because there was no nuclear blast doesn't mean that no one died. There's a hole in your house…that's what she said. Cain could be dead…because of HER!"

            "NO!" he shouted aloud, but this time there was no regret in his voice. Only rage. The Hunter Zero had awakened…and now there was blood to be spilled.

            Zero sprang to his feet just as Teytha sent two more bolts of lightning at his prone form. He got up with a roar and slammed his saber into both shots like a baseball bat, actually sending both projectiles back at their point of origin. Teytha was too surprised to do anything about it. She took both blasts and jumped back with a yelp, but other than that she was fine. Her systems were made to withstand electricity, which only made sense since she produced electricity internally as a weapon. That was why she'd been able to shrug off the Rajingeki attack like she had. But it had disabled her long enough for Zero to rush into the area and go on the brutal offensive. Teytha met him with a brilliant and insanely speedy series of parries and thrusts of her own, but Zero handled them all in style with just his single weapon while returning attacks. The flares of conflicting energy lit the dark room up in a way that would have been the death of an epileptic, and when there was finally—FINALLY—a lull, both parties flew back from each other…relatively unscathed.

            "Jesus Christ," Teytha breathed, not thinking twice about invoking the name of the popular human theological figure. She'd managed to hold her own there…but for the first time she was actually _tired_. She was wearing out, and Zero would realize that very soon. "Stall for time," Sigma's words echoed in her head. Stall… "You don't have to go." Malevex's final plea. But she did have to go. She had to prove to herself that she wasn't just extra baggage. Had she done that? But did it matter? She remembered her own words, her own promise to Malevex that she had to uphold: "I'll come back." Zero had gone into overdrive. If she stayed she would probably die. She was good, and she COULD kill Zero if he presented her with the opportunity, but…how many other Mavericks had thought the same thing, and never found their opportunity?

            Zero came at her again, his sword raised and poised to destroy. She leapt nimbly and easily away from him and sent a bolt of lightning at him that only served to enrage him further, but also locked him in his tracks for a few seconds. She used the opportunity to activate her teleporter. "Strike hard, strike fast, and if all else fails I'll run like hell." That was the plan she'd lived by up till now, and she saw no reason to deviate. She'd struck hard and she'd struck fast, and now it was time to go. Seraph Castle allowed its masters to teleport directly to the main control room. She could link up with Malevex and reinforce him in a final defense, or whatever else Sigma had in mind. She threw Zero one last glare and activated her transporter.

            Nothing happened.

            She blinked back her apprehension and tried it again. Nothing. What in the hell? She looked at the gate to the chamber, the one Zero should have used to come in. "Open," she commanded it by connecting to the castle's neural network. It remained closed. No longer hiding her apprehension, Teytha stood in shock for a few moments as everything crashed down on her at once.

            Cyber Peacock had designed Seraph Castle's internal network to correspond with Sigma's neural program. Sigma could teleport himself to any point within the castle whenever he pleased. He could activate and deactivate the automatic weapons. And he could disable teleportation for anyone inside the base…or freeze gates to prevent them from opening.

            Only he had that power.

            Teytha leapt to the right to dodge another attack from Zero, but she made no attack to counter him. Her body was numb. He'd been right…the son of a bitch Hunter had actually been right. Sigma wasn't a comrade after all. He'd used them from the beginning…not as agents of his revolution but pawns to set up his opponents. And now it was obvious to her what was happening. Sigma had realized that Zero had escaped, if he hadn't been the one to set Zero free in the first place, and the bald traitor had trapped Teytha in a room with him. And like an idiot, she'd played along, spurning Zero when he'd tried to break off the fight and provoking him to this killing rage. Sigma's plan was painfully simple: Teytha had to die. He arranged for her to walk into this deathtrap and now the frenzied Zero would kill her. Her death would of course drive Malevex and Mortar over the edge, and they would unleash the Wrath of God on X and Zero…thus increasing their chances of destroying Sigma's archrivals. All that needed to happen for that killing rage to come out of her comrades was for Teytha to forfeit her life.

            Suddenly that life returned to her limbs and she began countering Zero with renewed gusto. There was, after all, another way. Her eyes flickered with a slightly mad desperation. She didn't have to die. She looked at the Hunter, who was dumb with his rage. That was her advantage. She could still think. She had her wits about her. She could defeat him by exploiting the rage that had led so many other Mavericks to their deaths. Because, after all, she had to. If someone had to die it would be that crimson bastard! She'd come too far to die now…she had too much to live for! She was briefly depressed again at thought that even if she did kill Zero, Sigma would probably kill her himself to keep his plan moving…but she could deal with that when the time came. She was an assassin, after all, and even Sigma couldn't hold out against a stab from the dark. That bastard would pay…just as soon as she handled this pest. "_Malevex…I'll come back. I'll find a way!"_

            The part of Zero that was still sane noticed the violent light that appeared in his opponent's eyes. Something had happened to her in this period of seconds, and it didn't look like whatever it was would make his life easier. Zero approached cautiously, trying to figure out what had happened, but Dr. Wily's snarling, cackling, hazy red shadow fell over his eyes again and the wicked doctor's curse corrupted his son just as it had in the battles with Iris and Colonel. There was only one result that would please Wily…Zero would walk out coated with blood and another victory on his charts. And like any son, Zero wanted to please his father.

            Teytha leapt into the air and sped across the sky like a flaming comet. She landed and held her swords out in front of her while her alabaster wrist gauntlets charged up. This time, however, the lightning didn't erupt from her hands, but traveled up her swords to the blades, and all of a sudden she was a feminine Zeus wielding the thunderbolts of destruction. Smiling in an uncharacteristically heartless way she sped toward her opponent like the bolts of lightning she used so effectively, her swords pulsating with uncontrollable red energies. She swung both weapons at the surprised Zero, who jumped back with a cry of pain and alarm. She kept cutting at him, driven past some mental bound by her desperation and desire to live. Again the sane part of Zero reflected that there was something about the situation that stank of Sigma, but Dr. Wily reproached him for it and he fell silent. Whenever Teytha swung her weapons, a curtain of red electricity hung in the air wherever the blades had passed through, and if she stabbed them outward energy flew from the tips at the opponent who was trying desperately to flee from the attacks. With a mighty roar, Zero threw caution to the wind and rushed at Teytha, his sword hanging limply at his side. He cried out "RYUENJIN!" and brought his sword up in a flaming arc.

            Teytha suspected something as soon as she saw the strange way Zero was holding his sword, and was already weaving around the Rising Fire Sword with her maddening agility even before Zero finished crying the attack's name, which also served as the activation code to release the attack's energies. Teytha slashed her charged swords at and into the Hunter's side, causing him to yelp in pain and spin around, kicking out and catching Teytha in the chest. She gasped and fell back, but her gasp turned quickly to a growl and forward she flew, just as Zero spun with a Shippuga. The sword blade caught Teytha's scimitar with a sudden power and tore it from her fingertips. It clattered across the floor into the shadows and its owner was left standing with just her conventional but nevertheless deadly single weapon.

            "Excellent!" Dr. Wily coached his son, the voice echoing through Zero's head and the mental image somehow perfectly matching Wily's actions. "There may be hope for you yet, Zero." Zero grinned victoriously and approached Teytha, who shrugged off the recent development and came at Zero with a surprising vengeance. "Fight!" Wily bellowed. "Strike high! Low! Good! To the right! Left! Upper left! Yes, Zero, this is you! This is what you were born to do! And such a skillful opponent, too! She's even faster than Colonel was. And we showed Colonel the ropes, didn't we?" Wily laughed. Zero was vaguely aware of what was being said, though the majority of his attention was on the fight. Wily twisted his mustache with a forefinger and smiled to himself. "There may be hope for you yet, my son. Even if you won't kill off that annoying blue bugger, at least you can take your place as the greatest fighting force this world has ever seen! You can make your father proud yet. Did I ever tell you how proud of you I've been?"

            Zero flipped into the air and came down with a cry of "HYOURETSZUAN!" Teytha only barely escaped the attack, slashing her sabers once or twice before retreating to another corner of the room. Zero pursued her, enjoying the hunt. Through her own mental haze, Teytha was beginning to realize that she would never win this fight. Zero was coming at her like some kind of undead thing. And you couldn't kill the undead. She was beginning to see what all of Zero's victims eventually saw when they fought him. It was not a genius series of tactics and a rage that was the result of injustices, as it was with X. It was a pure bloodlust. It was Bloodlust that killed Colonel and Iris. Yes, Bloodlust, the hazy red shadow of Dr. Wily that lived on inside his final son. And now Bloodlust was coming for her, she knew. But she would be damned if she gave in without the biggest fight Bloodlust and its bastard host had ever endured.

            "Look at her!" Wily cackled. "She thinks she has a chance!" Zero snickered with him and launched towards his opponent…who countered by jumping right at him. Teytha turned into a whirling dervish of death, her rage at Sigma and Zero and the so-called Bloodlust that controlled the red Hunter all channeled into one devastating combo. Zero for all his skill could not parry it all, and the two combatants fell together, Teytha cleaving for her life and Zero countering for his.

            "Damn," Wily observed once Zero broke away via his thrusters. His son had come out of that one in great pain. Slash marks decorated his armor, but none were terribly deep and they were flesh wounds if anything. But flesh wounds were painful, and that pain was all it needed to drive the Hunter over the final boundary. "Now is your time," Wily realized gleefully. "This is where you finish the battle in one glorious masterstroke. I've seen it time and time again, my son. Now work your magic once more!"

            "NOOOOOOOO!!!!" Using mental strength that might well have caused his neural systems to explode, Zero came screaming through the tunnel of resistance like a freight train speeding out of a tunnel. "I won't let you!"

            "Zero!" Wily snapped. "You failure! Your emotions are getting the better of you AGAIN! Do you mean to call yourself a warrior?"

            "God I hope not!" Zero raged inwardly, weaker than he'd ever felt before. Wily knew it, too.

            "Do you think you can change anything, my son?" Wily shook his head. "I thought that nightmare would show you the folly of your ways. You couldn't save anyone in the past and you will save no one in the future!"

            "Leave me!" Zero felt the walls of Bloodlust closing in on him once more. "You'll kill me…!"

            "Not before your emotions do!" Wily shook his head in disgust. "It amazes me to no end! I'm your FATHER, you big fool! Don't you think I know what's best for you?"

            "You're a monster," Zero insisted as strongly as his mental power allowed, which turned out to be a pitifully weak gesture. "You're nothing but a madman!"

            "SILENCE!" Wily's visage contorted with rage and his voice was shrill with contempt. "First you betrayed me by befriending my archrival. I BUILT YOU to destroy him, and this is the thanks I get?! But I FORGAVE you for that, you ingrate! I put aside the fact that you spat in your father's eye and let his ancient enemy survive! I thought that maybe you would find your path somewhere down the line. But you didn't! You spurned Sigma, but I even forgave you THAT! Then you shaped up," he said, more calmly. "You almost fell victim to Colonel's nobility, but you weren't drawn in by that crap. You destroyed him as well you should have. He was a weak fool anyway." Zero's blood boiled at that but it was nothing compared to what followed. "And Iris…" Wily tsked and shook his head. "You almost really let me down there. Falling in love! What garbage. That would have been the final sin, Zero. But you didn't sink to such a level. You gave that meddler PRECISELY what she deserved!"

            "DAMN YOU!" Zero burst forth with new strength. Back in real life, Teytha had taken note of Zero's sudden schizophrenia and had decided to kill him while he fought with himself. She'd sprinted at him and sent his sword flying up at his throat. Zero just barely deflected the attack, but Teytha launched into a series of combos then, and Wily took the opportunity to displace Zero while his attention was divided.

            "It's a shame, really." The red haze once more became Zero's cage. He struggled but it was all to no avail. Bloodlust snickered at him, its image and voice a combination of Wily's and Sigma's, both figures from his recent nightmare. "You just don't get it, you poor boy. Even when you try your damndest…you still can't do anything but submit to your fate." Bloodlust subdued Zero when Teytha caught him in his already wounded side with the tip of her sword. "Now watch the results of your failure!"

            Teytha was unable to explain it to herself once it had happened. One minute Zero was fighting some internal battle, and the other he completely flipped out, charging her with a vigor she had seen in no Reploid in her life. Despite her own crazy skill she was unable to do anything but retreat, and she realized too late that she was being pushed back into a wall.

            Zero took that opportunity to spring. He jumped forward and kicked himself off of Teytha's chest, and his powerful legs sent Teytha flying backwards into and off the wall. Her saber flew from her hands and landed well beyond her reach, rolling into the shadows at the other corner of the room. She had landed on her hands and knees, and looked up just in time to see Zero air-dash directly towards her, his sword poised to strike down and cleave her torso in half. Her whole world died around her as she heard her lightsaber clatter to the floor. The sound reverberated through her ears as every other sound was blotted out. She heard it rolling across the floor into the shadows, abandoning her just as everyone else had, whether they'd wanted to or not. She'd survived hell and high water, and yet the most unlikely person imaginable had killed her in the end: Sigma, the man who was supposed to be the hero of the Reploid race.

            Zero watched Teytha's head rise and he met her eyes, seeing in them the death of more than just an individual Reploid. He saw the extreme and sudden depression that came with the death of dreams of something within one's grasp. He saw not the death of a body…but the death of a soul. Dr. Wily had rarely been happier.

            Bloodlust's puppet came down and struck the killing blow. It was a strange feeling that came over Zero then. It began with her eyes. Those eyes...they were so familiar. They were the eyes of one helplessly watching death arrive to snatch away the future they'd tried so hard to create, but had ultimately failed to obtain in the end. Where had he seen those eyes before? Oh yes…there was something else…in the eyes…it was…it was a reflection. A reflection of himself. And that's when it all came to him. The eyes, more than anything, were lamenting the fact that Death had arrived in the form of someone who could have been a friend.

            Then, suddenly, Zero noticed that the room was a lot brighter than it should have been. Hadn't there only been that one dim light before? But he could see everything clearly now. The room was sparsely and metallically decorated…and rather messy. There were pieces of scrap scattered all around the stricken combatant…scrap that looked like it belonged to a gargoyle mecha of some sort…_NO!_

            The triumphant Bloodlust never knew what hit it and it never had a chance in the world. Zero tore through the haze with a fury that even Bloodlust itself could never hope to generate in its puppet. "No!" a horrified Wily had time to shout before Zero shoved him off some edge into some abyss. Zero echoed the cry as he ripped the last of the abomination to shreds, and Bloodlust joined in the cry, only its scream was a death knell.

            "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" It had to be the severest, most agonized cry ever to leave the Reploid's lips. He threw himself hard to the right, and it was a while before he remembered why. He landed badly and painfully hard on his right side and rolled over a few times, aggravating his wounds and totally scattering his senses. The Hunter got shakily but sharply to his feet and turned to look behind him with a dread greater than anything he had ever known…

            …But he had nothing to worry about after all. Teytha, white-faced and stiff due to her brush with death, was further stunned by Zero's sudden abortion of the death stroke he seemed determined to administer. Her right shoulder burned from where the blade had actually made contact. Why…? Another smallest fraction of a second and he would have…

            _WHO CARES?_ Something inside the assassin snapped. She jumped to her feet and sprinted towards the nearest weapon—her scimitar. She brandished it and raced back towards the Hunter, her eyes as wild as Zero's had been an instant ago.

            Zero watched her come. His face dripped with perspiration and his eyes were tired and actually teary from self-loathing over what he'd almost done. He threw his sword hard on the ground after deactivating it. No way would he touch that again. He met Teytha's rush with a full bodied one of his own, surprising her by lashing out and gripping her wrist. Her eyes blazed and she kicked the Hunter hard in the stomach, breaking his hold and spilling him backwards.

            _Kill her…_

            "No," Zero whispered unwaveringly, groaning at the pain in his midsection…but it gave him an idea. All he had to do was wait.

            Teytha rushed him again and swung her weapon hard. Zero ducked under her and grabbed her by her shoulder. Acting quickly he twisted around and flung her body into the wall she'd ricocheted off of earlier. Acting even more quickly he dashed after her and pinned her to the wall by her arms and leaned his legs against hers, preventing any last minute kicking maneuvers. She flailed like a fish out of water and assailed him with head butts and struggling with surprising strength in her limbs. Telling her he wouldn't hurt her would accomplish nothing. He had come literally within a hairbreadth of killing her, after all. Instead he removed a hand from holding her swordless arm long enough to drive it into her stomach with considerable force. The Maverick gasped and would have lurched forward if Zero hadn't been holding her against the wall. But in her mind he was her killer, and she wasn't about to surrender. She tried to move her unguarded hand towards him and shock him with electricity, but he saw it long before he had a chance and gave her vulnerable stomach another punch. This time her knees buckled and she started to slump, but still she fought.

            "Stop this," Zero said as soothingly as he could. "If I wanted to kill you I would have done it already."

            "No…!" she said from somewhere inside her returning mind. Her eyes were full of fear and mistrust, and despite Zero's efforts the terror filled her once more and she lashed out at his throat. Wincing—less because of her feeble attack than his aversion to hurting her again—he punched her one last time and that was all she could take. She slumped to the floor and he let her, kneeling down at her side to keep her pinned, and he removed her hand from his throat and pressed it back against the wall. She looked as though she were about to cough up blood, as well she should, but somehow she kept it down though her body still shuddered with pain and no small amount of fear. Her eyes stared weakly at him with that same mistrust as she tried hard to recover her breath.

            "It's all right," he told her again, quietly. "I don't want to hurt you…God, that's the last thing I want. I never wanted to." Her expression changed, but not necessarily for the better. She still thought, somewhere in her mind, that he meant to betray her. He was a Hunter, after all, and Hunters had betrayed her all her life, and he after all had nearly killed her not even a minute ago.

            "What are you doing?!" the horrified voice of Dr. Wily screamed faintly, somewhere deep within his rebellious son.

            "Go to Hell," Zero snarled. "And stay there this time. I never want to hear from you again."

            If Teytha heard him she gave no sign of it. "Why…?" she finally croaked.

            Zero sighed. God, could he count the reasons? He could never tell her the major reason…that was his own business. Plus he doubted he could put it into words. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "But I know I can't kill you and live with myself afterwards." He gently shook the arm that still feebly clutched the scimitar. "Please…put out the weapon." She just stared at him, and he couldn't help but pity her. She really, truly couldn't comprehend how she could trust a Maverick Hunter. Was this really what Terrornova had done to them all? Hatred and fear of Hunters at this level was impossible even for most high-ranking Mavericks. "Listen, I'm sorry. I know I said I didn't want to fight, and then I went and…but I never wanted you dead. I don't want any of you to die."

            "Why?" she asked again, her voice stronger but still shaky and uncertain. "Why should we live…? We killed your friends…we even fired nuclear weapons. God!" It was as if the full weight of that had suddenly struck her like a hammer. Her head rolled back and she gazed at the shadowy ceiling. "Why would you _ever _let us live?"

            Zero sighed slowly, and with that air went all pretenses. "Because I don't think you deserve to die. It's that simple."

            "No, it's not!" she said. "It makes no sense!" She wanted to believe him so badly, he saw. She was looking for any reason to trust him, some reason that would prove to her that he didn't want to capture her and haul her back to the hated Hunter HQ or to some human institution. And he couldn't do that, could he? No…it defied Logic, but Conscience demanded it. Because…

            "I would have done the same thing," Zero admitted painfully.

            And that reached her. "What…?"

            "I would have done exactly what you guys did," Zero elaborated, no longer hating himself for anything he said. If he was a Maverick sympathizer…then so be it. What the great god damned hell did it matter anyway?! He DID see where the Mavericks were coming from, and by GOD there was no reason to label them all monsters. There were some people in these ranks who fought not for genocide but for what they thought was right…and if Zero had been tortured by Thornton, Komanov, Kitao, Virdelko and Chartreuse in his youth then he too would have joined Sigma in half of a heartbeat. He would have relished the thought of sending nukes at the people who'd ruined his life and brutalized his friends. He remembered a story Malevex had told him during his imprisonment involving Teytha tortured by a Surger for failing a mission…a Surger, a device that overloaded electrical units and when used at a safe voltage could be used to force Reploids to suffer the Torments of the Damned with no fear—or in the victim's case hope—of death. "If I had to endure what you all endured, there can't be a question about what I would have done. You were right, Teytha. You were right when you said that I lived in the human's protective shadow. Until I met Mortar weeks ago I had never once questioned who the real enemy was. But now that I know…I'd be a fool to kill you for something I myself am capable of." Just ten minutes ago he would have been afraid to say that aloud…but not anymore. It just didn't matter. Only one thing mattered now.

            "Who is it, Zero?" she asked him, her voice betraying her hope to hear a sensible answer. "Who is…the real enemy?"

            Zero looked her in her sobered eyes and smiled weakly as he himself came to the realization. "All of us." She blinked in confusion, but he continued on. "All of us and the prejudices that drive us to do things like…things like _this!_ We build fortresses and declare genocidal campaigns, or we torture and kill innocents and justify it with some warped personal concept of right and wrong. It's prejudice that's the enemy, Teytha. The humans are prejudiced against Reploids and that prejudice gave birth to the Maverick Uprisings and other injustices…like Terrornova. And everyone suffered for them in one way or another. The Maverick prejudice against humans, on the same token, drives them to commit brutal crimes and atrocities…such as the Sky Lagoon disaster that caused the whole Repliforce fiasco. If those prejudices weren't there…dammit, none of this would have _happened_! I'd be having a ball somewhere around the world and you'd be with Malevex and the others living some quiet, happy life somewhere. Yes, you may have instigated a nuclear attack…but it was the prejudice and hatred against humans and Hunters that made you do it and I can't hate you for it, because I wouldn't have done any better myself." He looked hard at her face, which was contorted with lingering pain and more than he could ever list in the eyes. "I was right, wasn't I? You never wanted this. All you want is life."

            "Is that so much to ask?" she agreed in a voice no higher than a whisper, almost staring right through him. "It has been so far…"

            "Let me change that," he pleaded. Christ, it all came down to this…he could change everything, he realized, and he COULD save someone, if she would only…

            Teytha thought it over for at least thirty silent seconds. Her eyes searched Zero's futilely for signs of duplicity, but she found nothing. Finally the survivor of Terrornova thumbed the deactivation switch on her scimitar and the blade slid back into its hilt. When Zero made no move to throttle or otherwise betray her she went one step further and rolled the blade away from her. Zero smiled in genuine relief and paid her back by releasing her arms. She wrapped them around her aching midsection and sat back against the wall, still breathing heavily and unsure of what to do next.

            Zero sat down next to her and winced as he examined his own wounds. "You pack quite a punch when you want to."

            "Not as much as you do," she observed blandly, her voice still quiet and lacking power, as she lacked the air to back up her voice. "I'll be feeling your fist in my gut for days." It was an attempt, however feeble, at conversation.

            "Yeah, sorry about that," he said, again genuinely, trying to build some kind of bridge between them. He needed her to trust him if he was going to get anything accomplished. He had a new mission now, and it all hinged on this.

            "How…"

            "Yeah?" he turned to her, his eyes encouraging her to continue.

            "How…" she was still reluctant to proceed. "How do we…defeat it? The prejudice, I mean…? All we've been able to do all these years is increase it."

            "I'm no different," Zero confessed, and that he hated himself for. "The only thing to do is to defeat the source of the prejudice itself."

            "But that'll never happen," she protested.

            "Probably not in our lifetimes," he agreed. That was saying a lot, considering Reploids could live for a very long time indeed. "But all we can do in the meantime is to stop the prejudice from spreading. …That's why I needed to defeat Sigma."

            "Sigma…" She moaned the name and her body slumped even more against the wall.

            "What's wrong?" he asked, vaguely alarmed at her sudden transformation.

            "He…" She looked worse than he'd seen her the whole time. "You were _right_…"

            "About what…?"

            "Him. He's…he's every bit the monster you said he was."

            "When did this come about?" Zero furrowed his brow in interest.

            "While we were fighting…I tried to…" She shuddered and a new fear took her. She began glancing in apprehension at the shadows that filled the room she herself had chosen as an arena.

            "What is it?" For perhaps the first time a Hunter stood and circled defensively around a Maverick. "What are you afraid of?"

            "Him." She whispered it, and tried to regain some control. "He trapped me in here with you."

            "What?" Zero asked, his own voice a whisper, though he hardly needed the question answered before the whole scenario clicked into place.

            "He wants me dead," she explained quietly.

            "To enrage the others," Zero finished.

            She nodded. "I came here to ambush X…but my plan was to strike and run if I didn't kill him." She felt horrible confessing it and it showed but he didn't appear to hold a single word against her. When she lost enough shame to look him in the eye again she continued. "He locked the gate and disabled my teleportation. He expected you to kill me." She was only stating the obvious because she was too afraid to speak her real worry aloud.

            "You're afraid he'll kill you now himself and pin the blame on me." It was a growl of pure, unrelenting loathing that escaped Zero's lips. His Maverick prisoner shuddered at the sound. Zero could scarcely believe Sigma would sink to such a level. Here he had Teytha, Malevex, Mortar, and Gredam, four of the most devout Mavericks that were left in the world, and he planned to throw them out like bags of trash one by one, playing on their camaraderie and twisting it into a weapon…he was exploiting the love they had for each other, Zero realized, and it all boiled down to that.

            …Just as he'd exploited Zero's love for Iris inside Final Weapon.

            _Sigma…_Zero thought, and this time the bloodlust was his own doing. _You are going DOWN, you son of a bitch! I swear by what's left of my SOUL you will not leave this place alive!!!_ He turned quickly to Teytha and offered her his hand. She hesitated, and then picked up her deactivated scimitar and accepted his help. He got her to her feet and he walked with her to collect her other sword. He was afraid to leave her alone even for a moment in these shadows lest that King Prick pull a fast one and kill her when he wasn't looking. "This place isn't safe for any of you," he finally stated. He looked her in the eye and made her a promise, something he rarely did anymore. "I'm going to get you all out alive."

            A tiny laugh escaped her lips at the craziness of the statement, because her battered logic wouldn't allow her better sense to fully accept the fact that a Hunter was trying to save her life. "Gredam's…not here." He knew what she meant.

            "Come with me," he said firmly. "Even if Sigma can't kill you, there's nothing stopping him from making the others think you're dead."

            "You mean…" Her breath caught in her throat. "Jesus, no!"

            "You're not licked yet," he reminded her. "But we've got another problem, and I can barely believe it…" He shook his head and finally answered her unspoken question. "It's X."

            "You're right," she breathed. "He…Malevex said he was heading towards Cyber Peacock. If he's beaten him then he'll be heading for Mortar at the first ring's guard chamber."

            "X probably isn't as kindly disposed to you all as I am," Zero sighed at his new predicament and guided Teytha to the gate leading back the way he'd come. "It's almost funny. Usually he's the pacifist and I'M the warmonger."

            "How are you going to get to them?" she asked. "The gate's—"

            "The gate!" Zero laughed and motioned for her to get down. He walked to the gate and slammed his fist into the ground while shouting "RAKKOUHA!" A spray of charged white lasers exploded from the ground and completely blew the gate off its hinges, and most of that part of the wall with it. Zero turned to his Maverick accomplice smugly. "Bet you're glad I didn't use THAT in combat." Her speechlessness was answer enough. "Come on," he said, and they left the would-be deathtrap together. "We've gotta stop X before he does something you and I'll both regret."

            "You're going to stop your friend from killing Mavericks?" It was still too much for Teytha.

            "He's gonna go absolutely berserk when we confront him," he warned her. "He may even think I've switched sides, and God forbid that. I REALLY want to fight HIM. But keep your wits and let me do the talking. Or just talk to Mortar if he won't settle down. We've gotta keep them from destroying each other."

            "Zero…why are you doing this?"

            "Penance." He looked sadly at her. "You have a chance to have something I let slip through my fingers."

            "You mean…" She blinked in surprise and some embarrassment.

            "It's the best feeling in the world," Zero assured her. "And I had it for exactly one minute before I lost it forever in that god damn Final Weapon arena."

            She began to understand at last, and it stopped her in her tracks. "You see yourself in all of this." He nodded. "Then…I…wish you luck." Her voice dropped to something barely above a whisper. "I don't care what Sigma or the others have said about you…you're not a monster. You can't be."

            And there it was, the proof he himself had been looking for. He COULD change. He COULD reverse the course his life had taken. Until now all he had been able to do was destroy. But now he also knew that he was equally capable of preserving. All he had to do to save himself was to save others. Somewhere inside him Bloodlust and Wily died a quiet, whimpering death, and Zero was determined to keep them in Hell this time, where they belonged. 

In Teytha he'd seen Iris, the girl who spent her life trying to escape her past and was eventually faced with the destruction of everything she'd worked so hard to create. Granted she was a bit more volatile than Iris had been, Zero thought while feeling the slashes in his armor, but he'd triumphed over her nonetheless, and he had done it without inflicting death or even any serious damage. It was the greatest victory of his life.

            But it couldn't end there. He'd redeemed himself before Iris's ghost, somewhere in that spectral world Wily had just been banished from, and now he had to redeem himself before Colonel, who waited to confront a furious and justice-driven Mega Man X. Mortar had long been Teytha's guardian, as Colonel had been to Iris. Then there was the military side of Colonel, embodied in Gredam, but Gredam's fate was out of his hands for now. To succeed, Zero had to stop not a Maverick, but a fellow Hunter…his best friend. He had to stop X from undoing everything he had just done, because if Mortar died Teytha would die with him. And the same held true for the third party, the wildcard of it all. Because even if Zero managed to triumph over both Colonel and Iris, he still had to triumph over the man that until now he had been unable to master…

            …He had to defeat himself. His own person, embodied in a man in the control center being manipulated by the Maverick King, devoted to his friends but unaware of the pain that devotion could and may soon bring him.

            _Hang tight, Malevex,_ he begged of the final foe. _I'll set us both free before this is over._


	43. Frontline

**Chapter 42: Frontline**

            The only thing that had kept Signas going had been the victories. Even those, however, were tempered by defeats. Everything had happened in the sky thus far. _Gallagher _and _Icarus _were both destroyed, thus neutralizing the major assets on both sides. The Ravens had shot down a number of Bee Bladers and other Maverick assets, but Ravens were falling too, and Storm Eagle was still around. The blasted bird had relayed their coordinates to the Mavericks—Signas was positive of that. He saw the enemy group massed in the distance, near Hunter Headquarters. He hoped against hope that they would not start marching their way, but he knew better than to trust to hope at this point.

            The battle had started in the air, but it was coming to the ground. Zion and the rest of the Hunters had arrived, and Signas had been grateful for that, but now he and all his comrades were realizing that it was already far too late for them to be helped. This tiny refugee party consisted of Signas, Alia, Douglas, Caligula, Xu…those were really the only people Signas could think of who could fight. The rest were technicians who had been monitoring the battle at Seraph Castle when all this had started. They were armed, of course, but they were not used to firing their weapons and Signas had a feeling that the Mavericks would have no such handicap. There were Dragoons in the area, and Signas had called for them, but he had no idea if they'd make it in time or not. The odds were leaning towards the latter situation. The Dragoons had touched down a good ways away, and they had a long hike to get to the alcove where the Hunters were hiding. No, the Grand Commander admitted finally, they were very much alone against impossible odds. The battle would be over before it began.

            Signas looked out from the twisted mass of highway that had been ruined by a Bee Blader attack and was now serving as their shelter. He saw Maverick Hunter Headquarters, a devastated building that was now being visited by unwanted guests. Signas never thought he'd see the day, but it had come after all: Mavericks were freely entering the greatest Hunter establishment in the world. Hunter HQ had fallen to the enemy. Though his exceptional vision Signas could make out Boomer Kuwangner ushering the troops inside. That abominable bug was the one responsible for the attack on Signas and Zero in Sub-City 3, and Signas's blood boiled at the thought. Now that bastard was taking over his home, and there was nothing he could do about it!

            "Sir…?" a quiet voice asked him. It was Alia, looking up from her communications gear. She kept her wits about her, but it was clear that whatever news she was about to convey was very bad.

            "What is it, Alia?" he asked, sitting down on a slab of mortar next to her.

            "It was a transmission from Commander Zion." Alia absently brushed a lock of her short blond hair off of her perspiring face. "He reports that the Mavericks have massed their troops in a line…a frontline of sorts."

            "They're completely cut off from us," Signas finished in a dead tone.

            "Yes," Alia affirmed, almost inaudibly. "They have to break through the frontline before they can help us, and that will take some time."

            Signas stood slowly and looked back towards the headquarters. "We don't have any time left." Alia stood too and shared the sight. As they watched, the massed group of Mavericks Signas had seen earlier started marching their way. There had to be thirty of them, and Signas only had twelve on his side, and half of those weren't even soldiers. It would be a massacre, not a battle.

            There was a moment of silence before Alia turned her head and looked up at her leader. "We're not going to win this battle, are we?"

            Signas didn't have the heart to answer her. Instead he turned back to watch the advancing group. At the head was a tall, well-built Maverick wearing armor arranged in a green/brown camouflage pattern. His very appearance screamed "guerilla fighter" to Signas, and he identified the man as Gredam, the leader of the Mavericks in Sigma's absence. He now led an army that had only one objective: to kill. They were coming to butcher Signas and every Hunter under his command. And, the commander admitted internally, they would succeed.

            But as a commander he could never entirely give up hope, and if he did he still couldn't let his troops know about it. And so he looked back at Alia and said with as much force as he could muster, "We're not licked just yet." He acted as though he had some great idea, something he did not have. But if anyone would have a great idea, Signas knew who it would be. The big Reploid walked over to Caligula, the intelligence chief, who was currently fixing a wound on a fellow Hunter's leg. "How bad is it?"

            "I'll live," the Hunter answered for Caligula. "What are we gonna do now, sir?"

            "We're gonna do some thinking," Signas answered. "And then we're gonna do some killing. Caligula, can I see you for a minute?"

            The Hunter waved the spy chief off and Caligula went with his commander to watch the approaching Maverick party. "Fifteen minutes tops," Caligula said immediately, and suddenly breathlessly.

            "I didn't give us much more time than that either," Signas agreed glumly. "I'm supposed to have the most advanced CPU of any Reploid, Cal, but for the life of me I can't figure out what our best option here is."

            "You want a second opinion?" Caligula frowned and rubbed at his chin. "Well, to be honest, we can't stay here. If they corner us here, we're all dead."

            "I was thinking that," Signas agreed, again glumly. "But I don't think just marching out there to meet them head on is a good idea either."

            "No," Caligula agreed, thinking. "You've considered a trap?"

            "Somewhat. A trap or ambush of some sort seems to me like the only way we can possibly whittle away at their numbers enough that we'll have some chance at a victory when it boils down to hand-to-hand combat. But the only place that's good for a trap is…"

            "Right here," Caligula finished. "And if the trap fails, there won't be any way out of these highway remains."

            "That's the gist of it." Signas looked around him, trying to put two and two together. "We don't have any elaborate equipment with us, so any trap we have will have to be simple."

            It took approximately five seconds for a wily grin to appear on Caligula's face. "Sometimes, sir, simple is better." A minute later Caligula had explained his plan, and a minute later Signas approved of it, and for the next two minutes they explained it to the others, who were happy just to have any plan at all. It was an exercise in futility, they would all privately admit, but it allowed them one last grain of hope in this hopeless situation. They just hoped they would be ready when the time came.

            Boomer Kuwangner couldn't remember the last time he'd been inside Maverick Hunter Headquarters.

            Actually he could, and it was a fun memory because in it he was about to start flying around in _Death Rogumer_ to help Storm Eagle blow lots of shit up. This was better, he decided, because he was entering a mostly vacant headquarters and it was all his…and woe to any Hunter he found inside.

            The thing was, Boomer Kuwangner was a dedicated sadist. It probably stemmed from getting about twenty Homing Torpedoes fired up his ass during the first rebellion. Whatever the case, he now reveled in torturing helpless victims, be they humans, Hunters, or even some unlucky Mavericks he could pluck away from the crowd. Kuwangner was the very epitome of the kind of Reploid X had pledged his life to destroying. Not so curiously, Kuwangner was also one of Sigma's favorites. Sigma saw a lot of potential in Kuwangner's brutality, and it was always nice to be noticed, Boomer thought. And oh, would he be noticed…especially after today. There _had _to be some unlucky soul still inside this building. He'd find them and then…ooh, it would be great. Boomer had been planning something special for the longest time. It was wicked. It was brutal. And all he needed to do it was his Boomerang Cutter and the knowledge in his head…and an operating table, for convenience. They should have those in the medical ward, unless Old Man Cain had been getting cheap. "Old Man Cain," Kuwangner mused aloud. Wouldn't _that _be the prime subject! But no, Kuwangner already knew how to torture humans to death. He needed a Reploid subject. Well, he could always use a prisoner. And he couldn't let Gravity know, because—

            "What are you scheming, brother?"

            Because Gravity was a sentimental idiot, Boomer thought as he turned to face his brother in crime. Because Gravity still believed in honorable fighting and killing on battlefields only. Because Gravity didn't appreciate the subtle art that was torture. Because _Gravity _hadn't received an _enema _comprised of _twenty Homing Torpedoes_ at the hands of a _blue bastard _who wasn't even _here _to get what was _coming to him_!

            "I know that look," a wary Gravity Beetle stated as they marched proudly in the HQ's grand hall. "You've got something up your sleeve."

            "Don't be such a goddamned pussy all the time," Kuwangner rasped even more harshly than usual. "These people would murder us all if given half the chance. Hell, they already have murdered us once! Why should we not avenge ourselves?"

            "We _are _avenging ourselves!" Gravity said stonily. "We've taken their home. We will now fortify it. Storm Eagle is controlling things from the sky. Gredam is going even now to destroy Signas and the other big shots. You understand?" the big blue Maverick said, crossing his arms over his chest under his curved, blue, bladed snout. "We can avenge ourselves _without _strapping each Hunter down and ripping their guts out piece by piece!"

            Kuwangner had to chuckle. He just had to, because Gravity had hit the nail right on the head. "You are a very imaginative Maverick, brother. But as you said, we have work to do. Take care of yours…and leave me to mine."

            Gravity Beetle fixed his lanky older brother with another stony glare. He didn't trust him. As time went on Boomer had been growing more and more aloof. He had stopped caring about the everyday pleasures that made life…well, life. He only cared for blood and screams…and in that sense he was nothing more than a drone, Gravity often thought disapprovingly. Kuwangner was a Reploid, a MAVERICK nonetheless, and all he could think of at all times was inflicting pain. There was more to it than that. There was a purpose…a reason for fighting. There was also LIFE, a life that included simple small talk, playing cards, training, slacking off, having friends and all number of other things that sentient life forms did. Kuwangner was the perfect example of what the Hunters said Mavericks were. The Hunters published propaganda that labeled all Mavericks as bloodthirsty monsters, petty murderers, and general criminals…while the _real _criminals, the humans, got off free. It disgusted Gravity, and he would fight to end that image…but his brother, it seemed, fought only to perpetuate that image. At times it made Gravity sick. He had no sympathy for Hunters and he would kill them if they raised any semblance of a resistance to him. But he didn't exactly wander about killing random folks, and when he did kill someone he gave them one quick deathblow and let that be the end of it, unlike Kuwangner, who had been known to sit for hours with just one poor schmuck and dismember him. Gravity had gone as far as to appoint himself his brother's watchdog, ready to stop him from doing anything really grotesque.

            Now, though, the mission was to secure a base of power inside the Hunter HQ, and Kuwangner and Gravity both set out to do that in different wings of the building. They ordered their troops to flush out any remaining Hunters and capture them—both beetles thought that it might suit their purpose to have a hostage or two, just in case.

            "We've just about secured the base," Gravity Beetle said via communicator to Tetra. "In time we'll be ready to rejoin Frontline."

            "Good," the tanker responded from inside his armored behemoth. He had four other tanks with him, stolen from the Megacity Army HQ, and together they comprised the backbone of Frontline. "I ain't exactly a commander, y'know? I'm just a junkyard worker who happened to get lucky."

            "Take care or the Hunters will send you back to the junkyard," Gravity warned. "Boomer and I will take separate regiments. Gredam is leading most of our forces here to where we think Signas and the other runaways are hiding. After they're eliminated we can really secure this place."

            "I suggest you hurry," Tetra urged. "The Hunters are massing together in a spearhead fashion. I think they're trying to push through our little wall by focusing all their power on one point…makes sense, I guess. I've left our front troops in place as somewhat of a façade and gathered everyone else around the spot I think they're going to push through."

            "Good going. It's just what I would have done. You're a bit more than a normal junkyard worker, Tetra."

            "Well I do have military training, you know. I was the best tanker my platoon had." He harrumphed. "Till they decided I wasn't good enough for them. Racist human bastards."

            "Now's your chance to get even, Tetra. Do you have any surprises waiting for them?"

            "I'm sitting here in plain sight with two of my other tankers. The other two are kinda hidden…off to the right and left flank. When the Hunters come a-runnin', I'll have my boys come a-shootin'."

            "Nice. Let them make the first move, then?"

            "Maybe. Or we might coax 'em into it." Tetra's grin was plain in his words. "Just hurry your bug ass down here before I get blown up. 'Else all we've got is a buncha 'commanders' who are even phonier than I am."

            "Don't worry. We'll be there." Gravity broke the connection and turned to a Maverick he'd kept a close watch on these past few weeks. He was a big humanoid, and he was somewhat disfigured. His left arm was fleshless, his cold steel limb revealed. His face was badly scarred and in some cases metal could be seen there too. Both of his eyes were amazingly intact, but they always seemed bloodshot. He was a big, bald bruiser who wore armor that even Gravity Beetle, who had been called a walking suit of beetle armor, thought was extensive. He used as a weapon a large mace ball with energy spikes, attached to a sturdy metal base by adaman links, much like the Hunter Lariat's whip. "Geddon," Gravity said to his lieutenant. "You know what to do?" Geddon spoke not a word, opting to merely nod his imposing head once, very slowly. "Then I leave the base to you. Find and collect every enemy rebel you can, and have our gearheads find a way to activate the Hunter automated defenses. If they somehow infiltrate this place…they'll have to fight off their own defenses."

            Geddon could appreciate that, and began bellowing orders in a great, terrible voice that echoed throughout the stricken building. Gravity turned and headed back to the grand hall, where he planned to exit through the giant hole in the wall. It seemed like a fitting way to leave.

            Boomer Kuwangner hadn't wasted the time he'd been given. The Mavericks had thus far found no Hunter prisoners, but Kuwangner was definitely giving it his all. He needed one victim, just one…preferably a brave one, because he loved to break the brave ones. And oh, would this one break…they would shatter like glass. He had to find a victim, and then he had to hide the doomed Hunter somewhere so that Gravity wouldn't be able to see what his brother was up to. Gravity was a good lad, but a bit misguided, Boomer thought. His younger brother had the right attitude, but he was much too stiff. He needed to let it all hang out and enjoy himself. Boomer couldn't understand how Gravity could possibly enjoy life when it was tampered by all those annoyances like duty and honor. Like there even were such things! They were just delusions of the mind…necessary delusions for some, Boomer admitted, but not for him. He had surpassed the foolish notions of "right" and "wrong". What the hell was right and wrong anyway? Some HUMAN conceived notions—notions founded ENTIRELY on peer pressure—that existed for no reason other than to make people feel bad for doing things society didn't approve of. 

Society! There was another joke. Society was just a group of conformists hostile towards differing opinions. There were a million examples. The Maverick Wars were started because Reploids thought they should have rights…but SOCIETY disapproved. Society thought—and still thought, and had ALWAYS thought—that slavery was a good thing. Boomer loved the reactions he got when he spoke that aloud. America was the funniest example. America was a nation born on black backs, and until the Civil War they spurned the idea of freedom…a notion that they based each and every founding principle on! And even after the war, EVERYONE wanted slavery back. Everyone, of course, except the former slaves, and even THEY wanted someone to beat down, to control, to manipulate, just so they could get some semblance of vengeance against the cruel past fate had given them. Unable to use Africans, America next turned to third world nations, enslaving Mexicans, Bangladeshis, Chinese, Indians, and endless other people, most all of them women and children. These slaves were forced to produce foolish clothing and frivolities that only Americans could possibly desire. Americans wore only shirts that had a particular brand name on them. Americans wore only shoes that famous people on television did. Americans bought cars that guzzled as much gas as possible. And America got it all from big companies…Boomer could easily recollect a few. This was his area, after all. Disney…yes, the Disney Company. That was an infamous one. That stupid mouse and his stupid friends, appearing all over the world on stupid shirts that only fools would spend money on. And fools did spend money. Disney grew fat off money from its shirts and its trinkets…shirts and trinkets made by slave women and slave children in other "democracies", while paying them a few cents once in a while so they wouldn't be official slaves. All the while Americans carried on in blissful indifference…indifference, Boomer always had to insist, not ignorance. They knew. They all knew. They just didn't give a damn, because not a one was wiling to give up their special shoes and their foolish mouse shirts, and besides, their leaders were getting too rich off the foreign sweatshop labor. It was far cheaper to hire slaves than to hire American citizens, with their Unions and their 'civil rights'. Rights were always a terrible burden for American leaders. Rights of citizens were always getting in the way of things like International Trade, which kept everybody happy who was a friend to America, except the beaten, starving women and children who made the mouse shirts.

            American Principle…Boomer thought it was the greatest and best-acted charade of history. America started as a slave nation and ended as a slave nation. Things were looking so good for it, too, until the fateful confrontation with China. China had finally reached America's status as a supreme superpower, but their warmongering had gone too far and touched American economic interests. With their precious mouse shirts at stake, America had resorted to its own warmongering, the kind that nearly caused World War 3 decades earlier by putting the Western nations against all united Arab nations. The conflict soon grew hot, and in the end both leaders were so close to launching nuclear weapons that an accident in a Chinese launch silo started a chain of confusion that almost resulted in nuclear holocaust. World leaders immediately signed a treaty that led to the burial of weapons like the SCBM Buzzbombs. But that wasn't the only effect. America died a slow death after that mini-war. China was clearly the worse of the two nations, but the thing was, the world _knew that._ They _expected _the Chinese to act like assholes, but America had kept up the pretense of being a good and noble nation, and this latest bit of warmongering led to the sudden sever of economic and political ties that isolated America with itself…and led to a severe lack of mouse shirts. Then, world borders changed drastically. European nations banded together into the European Commonwealth, and only Great Britain remained with its longtime ally America to create the Megacity System. China expanded into the Asiatic Alliance. And the best part was, war stopped. These three superpowers were able to work everything out, by some great miracle.

            But then…the Reploids came. Suddenly there was an opportunity for the former America to have its slaves again, and they took them greedily. It was an American thing…there was no question. The Commonwealth and the Alliance had nowhere near as many Maverick incidents as the Megacity System had. Each and every major uprising had occurred in the System, because the System was and always had been blatantly racist towards Reploids. That wasn't the case in the Commonwealth, Boomer knew. Reploids could even get MARRIED in the Commonwealth, though why they'd do such a foolish thing Boomer did not know. He hated the concept of 'love' too…it flew right against his torture principals. But that was another story. Boomer's concern was the Megacity System, and he'd fought together with Sigma to unseat the racist human bastards by becoming a racist himself. But that didn't bother Boomer. Hypocrisy was yet another foolish mental defect that he had overcome. The best way to live, Boomer thought, was to do what one pleased. If someone didn't like it they were welcome to stop him…if they could defeat him. That had been his life principle for all his years, and it remained so now. Torturing people was his hobby, and by God he'd do it if he wanted to, and if Gravity wanted to stop him that badly…well, he'd just have to prove himself able.

            Boomer snapped out of his thoughts when he caught sight of a hunched over humanoid Maverick. He beckoned the old fellow to him with an eager wave. "Doc Volvar! I was hoping to find you here."

            "A good time to be here, for sure!" Doc Volvar cackled, revealing yellowed, irregular rows of teeth. His face was a bit distorted, and his entire frame seemed a bit off. Whoever had created the quack doctor had not done a good job…but they'd given him the right kind of mind to get along with someone like Boomer Kuwangner. "Are you still going to go through with your little plan, hmm?"

            "Yes," Kuwangner rasped. "But we mustn't tell Gravity. He's on his crusade again."

            "A stiff one, he is!" Volvar adjusted a glass eyepiece. "He never had an eye for adventure! But if you're going through with this, well…it will be an adventure, won't it?"

            "Do you remember it?" Kuwangner asked eagerly. "Do you remember the procedure?"

            "O'course I remember!" Doc Volvar was offended. "Doc Volvar never forgets! It's a fine scheme you've got going, my friend, and I can't wait to try it out. A pity we won't be able to hear the poor bastard's screams, but so long as we know what he's goin' through it's all good, eh?"

            "I don't think we will ever be able to comprehend what he goes through," Kuwangner said with a raspy, wicked, telltale cackle. Aside from his brother and Lord Sigma, Doc Volvar was the one person Boomer Kuwangner would never kill just for fun. Volvar was one of a dying breed, one who understood where Boomer was coming from on almost every issue. Also, Doc Volvar was a surgeon…and while he was the best surgeon a Maverick could ask for, he was Satan On His Throne for any unlucky Hunter. Boomer had learned much of his own art of torture from Doc Volvar, and was more than willing to share his project with his revered doctor comrade. It was only fair, after all.

            "But we still must find a patient. There must be a Reploid Hunter still in the building?" The creepy doctor looked around as though he'd see something new this time.

            "Perhaps Gredam will bring one back," Kuwangner said blandly. "At least then he'd be good for something."

            "Boomer!" Gravity shouted through his communicator. "Where are you? We've got work to do! Tetra can't hold the Frontline on his own!"

            Boomer sighed and shook his head at Volvar. Brothers these days. "I'm coming, I'm coming…hold your horses, will you?" He broke the connection. "Go with the others and seek out hostages. Pluck one that looks especially brave and…see if you can find the medical ward. As a matter of fact…try the medical ward first! You might get lucky."

            Doc Volvar nodded, cackled, and started off on his irregular legs. Boomer turned and went his own way, meeting his brother at the hole in the wall. "What?" he asked innocently when his brother immediately threw him a look. "Do you really think your dear brother would sneak around behind your back?"

            Gravity said nothing, and walked out to rejoin the war.

            Doctor Tiberius had certainly seen better days. The medical chief had enough on his mind without the knowledge that he had to lead three doctors, two of them humans and one of them old and sickly, through a suddenly unfriendly home base to the "safety" of the outdoors, and he was being assisted only by Damia and two other rookie Reploids who were only barely activational. Put bluntly, the situation sucked, but what could he do except keep his finger pressed on the trigger of his pistol?

            Damia herself was a major comfort to Tiberius. First off, the two went way back. They both knew they could count on each other to pull through in a pinch, and thusly both knew that they weren't alone in this struggle. Damia was also the leader of the best squad of guerillas Tiberius had ever seen, and she had recovered mostly from the wounds she'd sustained at Seraph Castle's radar base. The short, blue armored brunette knew stealth like the back of her hand, and if anyone could get the group out of the HQ and to a place of safety, it was her.

            The others were iffy. Carlton, the only Reploid doctor, had recently been nailed with an I-beam, and Tiberius didn't know if that would affect his performance in a fight. He wasn't a soldier at any rate, built only to heal, not to hurt. He had only a small service pistol to defend himself, but he was more interested in aiding the wounded anyway.

            The more militant Sidney Ledyard provoked less worry. Doctor Ledyard had served since the first uprising when he'd raced through the war torn streets and administered medical aid on the field. He'd repeated that performance during the Repliforce War and had a medal to show for it. If Ledyard was afraid of anything Tiberius didn't know what it was, but he was still an unarmored human. One shot would mean the end. Nevertheless he seemed determined to help fight and Damia had given him her assault rifle, which had been brought back to the HQ with her. The Huntress herself was unarmed, and according to her that was best for the moment, since firing a shot would only expose them and ultimately kill them. Ledyard said that he agreed, but Tiberius couldn't help but notice that the rifle's safety was off.

            The wounded folks were the ones Tiberius was really concerned about, and he was grateful for the aid Carlton tirelessly gave them. Dr. Cain looked good, considering he'd just had a heart attack, but he was still wobbly and unsure of his footing, relying more on his cane than usual. He was clearly doomed if anyone were to ambush the party. The Reploids, Krysta and Nightchaser, were useless in Tiberius's eyes. He'd given them injections of hyperactive fluid to bring them out of their sedation. He could not carry them around, and so they'd have to fend for themselves. It seemed to Tiberius like a very unfair way to repay them for their efforts in destroying Scythe, but what else could he do? At least they still had their weapons. Nightchaser, while still appearing somewhat groggy, somehow walked nevertheless with his arrogant swagger and held his deactivated lightsaber in his left hand. His wounds had been easy to mend, and he stood as good a chance as any at coming out of this alive.

            Krysta was different. The white haired, quartz armored Huntress had her axe clutched awkwardly in her shaking hands, looking around in some kind of paranoia while Carlton gently but firmly prodded her along. Scythe had put a big hole in her side, and while it was patched up it was far from healed. It would be easy for the Mavericks to take advantage of her. God help her, Tiberius thought, if she were ever taken captive.

            Damia moved closer to Tiberius and spoke softly as they walked. "Ten to one we're going to have to shoot our way out of here."

            "I know," the doctor admitted in grim defeat. "There's no way we can do it like this."

            "Not necessarily," Damia said, though she didn't sound all that hopeful. "All we have to do is find someplace that is relatively unguarded and push through. Then we run like hell."

            "We'll still need better weapons," Tiberius insisted, raising his pistol as an example. "This thing won't hold off a group of Mavericks. And you yourself only have your fists."

            "They're strong fists," she pointed out. "But you're right. We need to get to the storeroom. There might be spare weapons there, and maybe even a few radios. If we can radio Signas and the others, we might be able to get some help."

            "I doubt it," Dr. Ledyard butted in. "Signas is bound to be tied up with his own problems. There weren't many here anyway. There's no way he'd come running back into this deathtrap."

            "Well what else do you want me to do?" Damia retorted, not exactly coldly but definitely harsh in her desperation. "Can you think of anything better?" Ledyard couldn't, and turned his head away. "Right. We'll get to the storeroom and figure out a plan of attack from there." She stopped and looked Tiberius in the eye. "I'm going ahead."

            "Of course," Tiberius sighed weakly. Damia was best used as a scout, after all, but he hated losing his most valuable support. "You know my frequency?"

            "Yeah," she replied, glancing towards a ventilation duct and wincing at the strangeness of the situation. "I'll tell you guys where to go and what to do. It's up to you to do it. If things go completely to hell I'll do my best to help, but…"

            "If things go completely to hell," Dr. Cain finished in a dead tone, "no amount of help will save us."

            Damia stared at them all for a few seconds as though it might be the last time she'd see their faces. Then she smiled as confidently as she could, checked around the corner, and sprang like a cat up to the ventilation duct. She grabbed hold of the grate, ripped it free, swung herself inside, and pulled the grate back in place behind her all in one flowing, adroit series of motions. Tiberius once more allowed himself to be grateful that he had one of the best sneaks in the business on his side. Then he looked back at his sorry party and nodded, and started down the shortest path to the storeroom. 

            The Hunters had come together. Units 20, 15, 17, 8, 5 and 3 were waiting for the order to charge the Mavericks, who had placed their troops in the form of a large horizontal barrier. Boomer Kuwangner's Frontline army was very well named. For the Hunters to succeed they had no choice but to break through Frontline, and aerial reports from the Ravens had provided them with the enemy chain's weakest link. Zion's plan was simple. Infantry Units 3 and 5, led by Mason and Archer respectively, and Erich Zegmann's heavy artillery Unit 15 would rush towards the strongest Maverick concentration, Point Alpha, drawing their attention further away from the weak link, Point Delta, which Units 20 and 17 would storm together. Once these large units broke through, the Mavericks would almost certainly abandon their efforts with Zegmann and company and try to stop the invading Hunters from proceeding any further, thus allowing Zegmann to push through with his big guns and allow Archer and Mason to lead their swarms of foot soldiers past the Frontline. Unit 8, the guerilla fighters, really had no special purpose for the moment. The Unit, under Castle's leadership, would be more useful when the time came to invade Hunter HQ.

            Zion confirmed the plan with the Unit Commanders and gave the order to proceed. The Hunter army finally went into full action, marching into the heart of the battle-ridden Megacity 5. In the air, Storm Eagle led the Maverick air patrols against Alec Tremont's Ravens. Jimmy Taggart had been safely recovered from his jet and positioned well away from the battlefield. Tremont, Taggart's replacement, was doing a fine job keeping Eagle at bay, but even with the loss of _Gallagher _the Mavericks were causing the Ravens to weaken. Part of the problem was that the Ravens only had a small amount of fuel and firepower left before they became little more than floating nuisances. This worried Zion more than a little, because if Storm Eagle were allowed control of the skies he could seriously damage Zion's efforts on the ground. Just one Storm Tornado could move something as big as a tank, or in Zion's case a squadron of Hunters in ride armors. As far as Zion knew Storm couldn't shoot nukes, but aside from that he was every bit as dangerous to the Hunter war effort as _Gallagher _had been.

            Every unit marched together to Point Alpha, the strongest concentration of Mavericks. They would not actually begin the split until battle had begun, lest they alert the Mavericks early on of their true intentions. After both parties drew swords, Zion and Jasper would lead their units away from the main body and dart towards Point Delta, the weak link. Point Alpha, the current destination, was nothing less than the Megacity Highway—the very same roadways Mega Man X had used to chase _Death Rogumer _all those years ago. The Highway was actually a labyrinth of roads at different levels of height. Maverick forces littered all roads at all four major levels and a powerful enemy vanguard of ride armors and tanks and foot soldiers sat on the Asimov Lane, where all roads came together on the wide road where X had first fought with the nefarious Vile. For one trying to reach the Hunter Headquarters, Asimov Lane was the best way to go. This was Point Alpha…Asimov Lane. In time, Units 20 and 17 would head east from the battle for several blocks before coming upon the weaker concentration of Mavericks at Exit 4, Point Delta. They couldn't follow Route 4 to the HQ, but they could bypass the road and find Exit 8 and Route 8, which did take them right where they wanted to go…which in their case was the hideaway Signas was desperately but futilely trying to maintain.

            "We can't waste more time," Jasper's voice came through on Zion's communicator. "Signas and the others are sitting ducks out there. The situation is the best we're going to get."

            "We're about at the target zone," Zion agreed, reverting to his arm cannon. It was the first time he had done so thus far. "I'll have the others give the order."

            "Come at them like bats out of hell," Jasper growled his suggestion. "They deserve nothing better!"

            "Tell me about it," Zion all but whispered, seeing the devastation caused by both _Gallagher_'s attack and _Gallagher_'s fall. Point Alpha was in shambles. Now it was time to make the bastards pay for what they'd done. It was his order to give…and people would begin to die once he opened his mouth. But it had to be done sometime…and for Signas's sake, total war would begin…now.

            They'd told him it would be a field day. It had become a holocaust.

            They'd told him it would be a way to stop the killing. It was all coming down instead to bloodshed.

            They'd told him he could make a name for himself. They left out that the name might be for his tombstone.

            All the billboards, all the advertisements, all the propaganda, it was all designed to recruit dumb young soldiers under the impression that they were in for a world of fun. They were realizing instead that war only provided for a world of hurt. The rookies were realizing with a start that there was no such thing as a toy army, and there was no such thing as an easy war. The Repliforce should have taught them that, but no one learned, and so the Maverick Hunters were able to recruit a fresh batch of cocky self-confident fools to replace the ones who had died in the last war.

            Vulcan had a leg up on his friends in the sense that he'd learned all this much earlier. He'd fought Mavericks in the 12th district quarry, and there he'd tasted the thrill of victory. Then on the speeding Blackstar Express he suffered the agony of defeat. Teytha's attacks had almost fatally wounded the silver Reploid, and were it not for Hunter Feldspar's help Vulcan wouldn't have survived the night. Now Vulcan was heading into battle not with the elite of Unit 0 but with his slightly above average friends in Archer's Unit 5. He had spent the night shivering in the rocky Catskills, and he'd watched the sun rise to reveal a nuclear wasteland. He'd seen fire in the sky and now on the ground, and he saw tragedy up close and personal for the first time. He knew nothing of the other tragedies the night had brought. He didn't know that Feldspar was dead on the floor in a Seraph Castle arena. So far as he knew, Krysta and Scythe were hiding with Signas and preparing for the final strike. He could never have guessed of Scythe's betrayal. He would have been horrified to learn that Krysta never made it out of the HQ, and was stranded inside with a party that included of all people the hated Nightchaser.

            But he was plenty horrified already with what he did know, and what he knew was simple and one sided: death. Death was everywhere this morning. Death was all around him, and more Death was about to appear in front of him. Vulcan looked around the shattered city sector that Zion was calling Point Alpha. _Icarus_ had died above them, and the nuclear explosion had scorched the whole area and torn down mighty buildings. _Gallagher_ had crashed further away but still in the same area, and the effects of its explosion were made clear by the row of rubble Vulcan could make out in the distance.

            Part of him wished he were out in that distance, because maybe out there things weren't this ugly. He didn't know if he'd ever seen an uglier sight in his life. He looked to the left, and saw the skeletons of blown out Bee Bladers and Ravens. Ride armors lay broken and shattered, and Maverick sky droids lay in shambles along with the ruined, burning buildings. He looked to his right and saw what had once been a residential apartment. He saw people with ruined faces and burned bodies rising from the rubble. He watched a man and a woman pull a little boy out of a pile of debris, the boy's frantic wails of pain and fear reaching Vulcan clearly. He saw humans and Reploids coated with blood standing in a line, watching the Hunter army pass them by to fight the war they should have been fighting earlier. One civilian Reploid with a shard of metal stuck clear through his limp forearm looked at Vulcan as he passed, and the silver Hunter knew that he was being singled out. He turned unconsciously and against his will to face the Reploid, who stared at him with blank eyes that spoke of far more devastation than his ruined arm could. _I'm sorry,_ Vulcan apologized to him. _I'm sorry that we were too late._

            This was the specter of nuclear destruction, Vulcan realized, and this was the absolute smallest form mankind had developed. If this was horrible, what had Hiroshima been like? It was hard for Vulcan to imagine that a weapon as archaic as the old atom bomb could have done all the things that history books said it did, but now Vulcan believed everything he'd ever read about the subject, except he now knew also that history books were impotent. There was no way to express what he saw now, and he knew that what was hard to express from a Buzzbomb would be impossible to express from the larger ones.

            What right did people have to do things like this? What ideal or motive could justify this kind of an atrocity? And what kind of fool would ever think that it could be justified in the first place? On the same token, wasn't he about to perpetuate the Death these Mavericks had caused? He was going to take lives today, if his wasn't taken first. This he knew and accepted, and there was no guilt. There was, however, defeat. He was defeated because he had become just another soldier, another murderer on the plain of legal murder that was a battlefield. But the difference between him and the people he would kill was that he would kill for sport. He would enjoy their deaths, but he would not enjoy killing them. It was just work that had to be done to protect the world, and if he had to sell his soul to do it…well, that was what he'd signed up to do.

            "It's the price we soldiers pay," Mega Man X's voice said from a past encounter in the headquarters medical wing. "We're entrusted with the duty of killing people, but for that 'privilege' we pay the price of our innocence." Vulcan could picture the pacifist's face and dull, resigned eyes as he spoke. "It's a sad state of affairs. But that's how it is."

            And he was right, Vulcan now knew. The killing would go on, and more innocents would die. There would be more boys trapped under debris and more civilians with metal stuck through their arms. There would be more dying wails and more pure souls left to ferment with the unclean ones.

            …But not today. That was Vulcan's promise to himself, the reason he would fight. He would kill today…but he would kill to stop the innocent from dying. It was not the thrill of battle that came into him then as it had in previous fights, but rather the anger of injustice that sent his senses into a surprisingly calm state of overdrive. There would be more Death today, but not for innocents. The murders would fight each other for justice…and the results would be up to the blind statute herself.

            "Hey, buddy, you all right?"

            Vulcan looked up to see Rykov towering over him. His best friend's heavy machine gun was draped over his shoulder, and his bulky green and blue armor had never looked stronger. "I'm fine." Vulcan nodded his head at the Mavericks in the distance. "They won't be."

            Rykov noticed the distance in Vulcan's eyes and just let him be, looking ahead to see the red and white armored Hawkins, their squad leader. Hawkins was very similar to Rykov in build, and for as long as either could remember they'd been competing with each other for the title King Carnage. Maybe today would be the day that was settled, Rykov thought. Next to him was a shorter yellow Reploid named Derringer, a nervous kid who probably hadn't realized what he'd been getting into by joining the Hunters. Bringing up the rear was Gasket, one of the best ride armor pilots Rykov knew about. Rykov had no idea what the human Gasket's real name was, since he'd gone by his nickname since forever. Now he sat in a big Chimera mech and would protect the squad if things went awry. Krysta should be with them, Rykov noted grimly, but who knew what had happened to her at this point?

            While Rykov summed up his squad mates Vulcan did something he rarely ever did—he powered up his arm cannon. The cannon he'd been born with was next to obsolete, so he never used it, opting instead to use his rifle, which sent streams of adaman bullets at targets. Now, though, something told the silver Hunter that he wanted to enter this fight…in style.

            Commander Zion's voice boomed on every communicator, and Commander Archer repeated it for Vulcan's unit. It was the go-code. They were officially in battle now. The Mavericks had finally started shooting, and bursts of energy landed in the middle of the oncoming Hunter army. Vulcan knew that there were explosions around him, but his mind didn't allow him to care. He just kept running, his gun swinging loosely in one hand and his cannon fully charged. He set foot on Asimov Lane—Point Alpha—and picked his target, a cluster of foot soldiers standing near the front of the Maverick battle line. He shouted a battle cry, though he didn't realize it, and sent a sparkling silver bolt of plasma flying towards his target…

            And for the first true time in his life, the Hunter Vulcan went to war.

            He didn't wait to see where his shot landed. He converted his arm cannon immediately back to a fist and used it to line up his rifle. He sent a three round burst in the general direction of the enemy, and he thought he saw one connect but he couldn't be sure. There were just so many of them…all of them with only one goal—to kill him. Well, they were going to have to bust their asses if they wanted to do that, Vulcan thought. They were in for hell if they thought they could take him out.

            For the moment there was little to do except fire the odd shot, because Zegmann's Unit 15 had led the charge. The Maverick ride armors surged forth to meet Zegmann's, and suddenly there was a world of noise thundering throughout Asimov Lane and Megacity 5 in general. Vulcan stuck close to Hawkins, who was getting orders directly from Archer, and kept searching for targets. There really was little for him to do, he realized, except try and stay sane. He could hear nothing but continuous noise, all of it loud and offensive. All around him people were firing at targets Vulcan knew were there but couldn't see himself. Explosions ripped through the battlefield as each side began to use its heavier artillery. Zegmann ordered his mini-tanks and Hawk ride armors to the front, and a barrage of heavy fire drove the Frontline back suddenly and sharply. Then one of the giant Megacity Army tanks sitting on a highway overlooking Asimov Lane sent a shell flying in the middle of the Hunter mass. There was a huge explosion, and Vulcan went deaf.

            He realized that he had fallen down, and when he got up everything seemed to have taken on a white glow. Smoke rose from fires Vulcan could not see, and all around him people were moving much more frantically and were screaming war cries that to Vulcan somehow seemed more personal. That was when he realized that he could hear again. He thought that it was interesting how profoundly such a simple thing like hearing affected his battle performance. He was glad to have it back.

            He figured out what was going on when what seemed like a million Maverick foot soldiers came running at him. What had really happened was that Frontline had surged forward and sent in its foot soldiers ahead of its tanks and ride armors. Vulcan raised his rifle and began firing three-round bursts, switching targets each time. Some fell and some didn't. That surprised him. How could he be missing? He never missed. As he looked around he realized that lots of people were missing. This wasn't like movies at all, he realized. In movies the good guys always hit their targets, but in reality it was all so different. He turned sharply to the left and saw Tim Seton, a Hunter from Mason's Unit 3 who was about to be gunned down by a clever Maverick. Vulcan raised his rifle, targeted the Maverick, and fired. It seemed strange to the Hunter that the Maverick just stood politely still while he lined up the shot. It was like the Maverick was allowing Vulcan to kill him out of the goodness of his heart, when in fact the Maverick was just trying to line up a shot at Seton, but he just wasn't as fast as Vulcan was. These shots struck true to their mark, and the Maverick fell.

            Seton turned and gave Vulcan an appreciative nod before turning and racing towards a crowd of Hunters. Vulcan turned and saw Derringer firing and missing at approaching Mavericks. Vulcan fired at the same Mavericks, missed, and fired again until his clip was out. He ejected the cartridge and inserted a new one with ease that surprised him. There was no shaking of his hands. There was no mental freezing. Wasn't he supposed to be prone to that? Wasn't that what happened to rookies?

            Derringer shouted something that brought Vulcan back to the present, and he looked up just in time to see Gasket's ride armor explode. Gasket himself leapt from the cockpit, but landed right in front of the Mavericks Vulcan had fired at and missed. One of them fired at Gasket but he, too, missed his mark. There was a lot of missing going on. Gasket danced out of the way and raced towards Vulcan and the others, where he'd be less of a target. Then there was a series of thundering booms and all the Mavericks approaching Vulcan screamed and fell dead with large ugly holes in their bodies. Vulcan turned to see Rykov's machine gun barrel smoking. There was no grin on Rykov's face. That struck Vulcan as funny. Usually Rykov enjoyed combat. The thought struck Vulcan as funny because he, too, enjoyed combat. This, however, was hell. There was too much happening at once, and all he could do was look around and shoot anyone who looked threatening while hoping he didn't get shot himself.

            A loud buzzing attracted his attention. He turned and met Tim Seton's eyes just as Seton blasted a Maverick creeping up behind Vulcan. Vulcan gave Seton his own appreciative nod and Seton nodded back just before a buzzing Bee Blader flew overhead dragging a trail of machine gun fire across the Hunter ranks, tearing Seton apart along with his five squad mates.

            Six people had just died before Vulcan's eyes. Six people that he had called friends were now dead because of one simple attack from a mindless drone. Vulcan thought of a million things to do to that Bee Blader if only he could get up to its level. While Vulcan thought, Rykov and Hawkins acted. Their weapons thundered and sent tracers flying across the sky, pummeling the Bee Blader with immense firepower as it fled. From overhead, Alec Tremont's Raven sped into the picture and finished the job with its own more powerful machine guns.

            Hawkins said something like "Stay together," but Vulcan didn't hear him. He was planning on sticking together anyway, and so he just decided that was what had been said. It was easier than worrying. He lifted his gun and shot at someone. Then he lifted his gun and shot at someone else. His cartridge spent its last bullet and Vulcan calmly reloaded and began shooting at other people. Bullets and lasers exploded into the asphalt all around him. People were screaming now not just war cries but cries of agony. People on both sides were starting to die.

            There was a sudden booming sound from every direction, and Asimov Lane shook with the force of an earthquake. When Vulcan came to he didn't know how much time had passed but he did know that Rykov, Gasket, Derringer and Hawkins were still around him and looked just as hellish as he must. When he collected his thoughts he realized that those tanks he saw in the distance must all have attacked in unison. God knew how many Hunters were now dead.

            One Hunter who was dead was Peter Stromm. The Unit 8 guerilla veteran had been approaching a Maverick tank with the intent of sabotaging it when the tank fired, scaring Stromm and allowing a Maverick to get into position. Stromm turned and fought the Maverick off, but the man operating the tank's chaingun locked onto Stromm and tore him to pieces.

            Shadin of Unit 17 was leading her large squad to the back of the Hunter forces to merge with the rest of the unit and with Zion's Unit 20 to begin the march towards Point Delta. The tank shells impacted the ground nearby and a spray of shrapnel sheared Shadin's right arm and half her right leg off. She fell flat on the ground and would have died there, but Lariat the lion scooped her up and brought her to the closest cluster of debris where she might be safe.

            The battles were getting almost boring. Vulcan just kept searching and shooting and reloading, searching and shooting and reloading, and it was tiring. God was it tiring. The enemy didn't end. Frontline was everywhere.

            Vulcan decided that this would go on forever. He shot at a female Maverick and the bullet hit her in the shoulder. The adaman projectile left her arm hanging on by a few steel threads. She looked up at him with a face he could not decipher and then screamed in pain, dropping her weapon and crumpling up into a whimpering ball. Vulcan turned and shot another Maverick in the stomach. Blood exploded from the wound and this enemy too dropped his weapon and screamed. _Stop bleeding_, Vulcan thought with a growl. What the hell right had they to bleed? _Just die and be done with it,_ he ordered them. _Don't bleed. I don't want to see you bleed._

            Vulcan had never expected himself to be able to fly, but all of a sudden he could do it. He soared suddenly above the battlefield and watched a bunch of Hunters, ride armors, and some Mavericks fly with him. Then he slammed into something hard—the side of a highway road—and fell. When he stood enemies surrounded him. How in the hell had that happened? 

In fact, Storm Eagle had happened. With one Storm Tornado he'd sent half the Hunter army flying past the Frontline. Zion's worst fear had come true.

Enemies were everywhere, and they knew Vulcan wasn't one of them. He threw his rifle over his shoulder, the strap keeping it on his person, and ignited his lightsaber. He flew back into action, slashing at the nearby Mavericks while looking for Rykov and the others. He didn't see them.

            One Maverick came at him, a cat model. He parried the blows just as he'd been trained, throwing back every lunge the Maverick sent his way. The Maverick, too, had received some training and let it be known. He used his own lightsaber to hold back the attacks Vulcan struck, and for a while it seemed like the two would fight forever but Vulcan's peripheral vision sensed three other Mavericks ganging up on him. He dropped into a roll, completely abandoning the cat Maverick and trying to escape his chasers. This had little effect, because no matter where Vulcan went there was someone trying to kill him. It was hardly boring anymore.

            Vulcan swung all around him, acting whenever he saw the glint of a claw or a beam saber or even a gun muzzle coming at him. He struck mostly defensive blows, launching into attacks only when he felt he'd caught the opponent significantly off guard. He lashed brutally into one Maverick's chest cavity, screaming a war cry as he did so. The Maverick staggered back and Vulcan did not wait to see if he was dead, instead whirling to slice at a Maverick with his back to him who was harassing someone else. It was Derringer. The little yellow Reploid looked like he was about to go to pieces. His eyes had a sort of distance to them like he knew this was the end of the line. The Mavericks had started to surround him now.

            Vulcan slashed a bloody line down his target's spine, evoking a shriek of pain and more damnable blood. Vulcan cursed his victims once more for having the gall to bleed. Monsters didn't bleed. Only people bled. It was so much easier to think of them as monsters, so why in the hell did they have to go and bleed? It made things so complicated, because Vulcan knew now that they were not monsters and that he was committing murder.

            But he bled too, and he wasn't about to let anyone murder him. He launched himself into the fray and scared off the advancing Mavericks with a wild display of foolish slices with his saber. Then, rather than fighting them, he grabbed Derringer by the arm and dragged him away quick as lightning.

             For a long time, they just ran. Vulcan became lost in the moment. He knew he must be slashing out at oncoming blades to parry them, but he was never consciously aware of doing so. Derringer just kept whimpering something under his breath, and Vulcan fought the urge to slap the Hunter for his weakness. Didn't he know there was a war going on? Didn't he know that war was no place for the weak? Vulcan loathed Derringer for his weakness, for his inability to kill as effectively as Vulcan could kill. What good was he, after all, if he couldn't help Vulcan kill these people? Then Vulcan noticed that Derringer was whimpering because his right arm was missing from the elbow down. Vulcan actually froze in his tracks. The feeling was like running into a brick wall. Derringer looked up in surprised urgency, but Vulcan didn't acknowledge him. How could he tell Derringer that he'd hated him for feeling pain? How could he tell him that he was useless because he couldn't kill people? How in the world had he allowed himself to think that way in the first place? _What is happening to me? _Vulcan wondered.

            When Vulcan returned to the war, his first notion was that at least no one was shooting or piloting ride armors in his vicinity. He attributed this to the fact that there were lots of people around in very close quarters, and the Mavericks didn't want to trample or shoot down their own troops. Then he remembered that he and Derringer had been running, and he looked around to see that there were not as many soldiers around and yes there were shots being fired that crept up and stitched a hole in a Hunter Vulcan knew from Erich Zegmann's unit. He fell dead and Vulcan wanted to shout his name in shock, but he couldn't remember his own friend's name. It somehow didn't seem important.

            Vulcan looked around to see who had killed his friend but that was a worthless gesture. _Everyone _was shooting, he realized, even the medics, who had no one to shoot at. Priests in their churches were shooting, he was sure, and so were politicians in their offices and civilians on their way to work and even babies in their carriages. The whole entire world was shooting, Vulcan realized. He too was shooting. He'd swung his rifle around his shoulder and started shooting at targets that might or might not have existed. He didn't know why he'd shot, he realized when he discovered that he'd been shooting. Had he killed someone just now? Would he ever know?

            "Why are we standing?" Derringer whimpered, clutching his bloody stump of an arm. "Why are we standing here?"

            Vulcan didn't answer him. Instead he looked behind him to the larger, more closely compressed mass of Hunters and Mavericks, wondering perhaps if it might be safer in there. At least there he knew who he was supposed to kill.

            "We're going to die," Derringer was pointing out. He was very unhappy.

            "We're not going to die," Vulcan thought he heard himself say. He didn't know for sure. He was too busy scanning for people to shoot. He was still searching when he screamed in pain and fell to the ground, electricity shooting up and down his limbs. What in the world was _that?_ He remembered it with surprising speed. It was a stun cannon, much like the kind Vile had used, but why in the world someone was using a stun cannon was beyond Vulcan. Then he realized that everyone around him was also stunned, and that there was all of a sudden a large grenade sitting menacingly nearby.

            Vulcan flew through the air and landed hard on his back, involuntarily firing off a few rounds from his rifle that transfixed someone's body flying overhead. He had no idea if he had killed a Maverick or a Maverick Hunter. All he knew was that his armor was peppered with shrapnel and he was very tired. He was vaguely aware of the war going on around him. He knew it was still a war because people were still screaming their stupid battle cries, as though they changed anything. Those same voices were soon screaming for another reason, and some perverse smugness in Vulcan provoked him to think something along the lines of "I told you so" whenever he heard a voice change from machismo to agony, when in fact he told them nothing at all and was just laying on the ground wounded by a grenade and having maybe just shot an ally and friend as they flew overhead. The last thing he was aware of was a very loud, repetitive booming sound. It sounded kind of like Rykov's heavy machine gun. Vulcan smiled as he passed out. Good old Rykov. He always had to make noise. Always…he always…

            Zion thought things were going well, up to the point when Storm Eagle descended from the sky and fired a Storm Tornado that repositioned half of Zion's forces behind enemy lines. The Hunter commander swore very loudly and shot a nearby Maverick through the face who'd been trying to stab him with something akin to a pitchfork. "Jasper," he said into his communicator while running through his ranks. His unit and the 17th had been in the back rows, and were thus not as badly affected by Storm Eagle's attack. "What's your status?"

            "Bad," Unit 17s acting commander reported. "I'm trying to pull everyone together. You wanna move now? Hold on a sec." It sounded like Jasper was killing someone. "All right. You wanna move, I said?"

            "Yeah. I'll pull Unit 20 together and meet you at the east sector of the battlefield. They should have summoned most of their reinforcements by now."

            "Gimme a minute to find everybody. Jasper out."

            Zion relayed the command to all his sergeants to pull Unit 20 out of battle and start marching towards Point Delta. They could still salvage a victory out of this, he knew, if they could make it to Delta before the Mavericks realized what was up. Once they smashed through the Frontline unit they could reinforce Signas, if they weren't already too late for that. Unit 20 merged without real incident and they hurried to the east. Already Zion could see Jasper and the others gathering together, minus Shadin and Scylla. "What's up, Jasper?"

            "Shadin is out of commission," Jasper growled with uncharacteristic rage.

            "Dead?" Zion asked without emotion.

            "Not now, but probably before this is all over." Jasper sounded like he was on the edge. It was understandable. Shadin, Scylla, Lariat and Alia were his best friends. "Scylla is…I don't know where she is. We'll have to move without her." He did not sound happy about that at all.

            "Roger." Zion still refused to allow emotion to enter his voice. He was too used to war for that. He knew Shadin and Scylla, he respected them, but he could not grieve for them yet, if indeed they needed grieving. Right now his only option was avenging. Point Delta, he thought, here I come.

            It had often been said among his soldiers that Commander Archer was the best motivator the Hunters had, and he was now proving it. The alabaster Reploid tore through the Maverick ranks with his ornate lightsaber like some kind of specter. The Mavericks seemed to politely stand still while Archer felled them with chops of his sword, or shot them from afar with a golden energy burst from his fist gauntlets. Every Hunter who saw him immediately redoubled their efforts, knowing that it most certainly was possible to win with leaders as skilled as this.

            If Commander Archer was an angel, Commander Mason was a devil. The career soldier came crashing through his opponents with a rapier of sorts, raising a bazooka-like arm cannon every once in a while to vaporize a cluster of enemies. His troops rallied behind him to show their support, and Mason led furious charges into and behind enemy lines, helping out anyone who looked like they needed helping.

            The Hunters far outnumbered the Mavericks. That much was certain. But the Mavericks fought like wild animals, energized by the Buzzbomb incidents and by successes far behind Frontline. The two commanders wondered with dread what had become of Signas, Cain and the others. 

The battle for Megacity 5 reached a stalemate of sorts. The Mavericks had regrouped their heavy artillery and were launching a second assault that pushed into the Hunter lines. The apparent strategy was to pull the strong guys away from Frontline, send them crashing through the Hunters, and then sandwich them against the infantry when the Hunters closed on Frontline and tried to break it. Zegmann's hard hitters were giving the Mavericks a hard time, however. Nevertheless nothing Zegmann could procure was invulnerable against the Megacity tanks, and one by one the shells fell on Zegmann's clustered forces. They spread, frantically trying to escape, but the Mavericks, further invigorated, were now actually leaping up at ride armors, pulling their operators out, and mauling them to death on the street. They'd then steal the ride armor and use it for their own purposes. These instances were few but the message was clear, and Hunter confidence began to waver.

            Then news erupted in every communicator that electrified the Hunters—a tank had been destroyed. One of Tetra's five behemoths was no more, courtesy of the final missile in Raven possession and a concentrated attack from two of Zegmann's mini-tanks and a Kangaroo ride armor that had disabled the tank's treads. The Hunters surged forth with new vigor, pushing the Mavericks back and tearing _them out of the ride armors. Now it was the Hunters doing the mauling, and no matter how loudly their Mavericks screamed it was never good enough. An eye for an eye, they all reasoned, was the best way to go._

            The upside to it all was that the Mavericks didn't notice Zion and Jasper until it was really too late. Storm Eagle and his remaining forces saw them leaving the battlefield and heading for a much weaker portion of Frontline. He radioed the Frontline commander, Boomer Kuwangner, who sent Tetra and several squadrons of infantry after the sneaky enemy.

            Then the Mavericks turned their attention to the battle at Point Alpha. Commanders Archer, Mason and Zegmann were all surprised to see, out of a clear blue sky, soldiers flying through the air again. This time, however, there was no Storm Tornado—the action was happening on the ground. Flashes of blue light split the morning gloom, and after each flash more Hunters flew through the air like rag dolls, thrown clear away from their attacker and left helpless on the ground for the Mavericks to finish off. A circle began to form around the origin of the flashes, a large blue Maverick who positively glowed with somewhat mystical energies—Gravity Beetle, using his anti-gravity powers to knock the soldiers away. A more spindly form leapt through the air like a spider, though it was in fact another beetle. It landed amongst the Hunters as they landed, goring them to death with a glinting curved blade. Boomer Kuwangner was back in action.

            Archer and Mason were at this point within eyesight of each other. The look they shared conveyed their feelings—these opponents were not meant for regular soldiers. The Commanders themselves would handle the enemy Commanders…they would have to. No one else seemed to stand a chance. They radioed their intentions to their units, who immediately tried to catch up. Gravity continued to advance towards the greater group of Hunters, driving them back now with a large wall of pulsating black, blue and purple gravitational energies rather than the short bursts of power he had been using. Boomer had leapt past the wall and was now closing in from behind, speedily striking and driving the Hunters back against Gravity's wall. Other Mavericks caught on and moved to help Boomer, and the Hunters in between suddenly became desperate to break past Boomer, a task that was becoming increasingly more difficult as more Mavericks clustered around their newly appeared leaders. Archer and Mason both realized at the same time and with horror that they would never make it in time.

            And then something else electrified the Hunters and left the Mavericks momentarily impotent. Something was approaching from the sky…many things, actually. Squadrons of flying Reploids filled the air, rapidly approaching the much smaller unit held up by Storm Eagle. Only only a few Hunters knew their leader, but those who did know pointed out the Pegasus as a friend. "The Skiver's here!" they shouted. "Reinforcements are here!" All the Commanders breathed a little easier.

            The Reploid Air Force had finally arrived.

            Storm Eagle glared at the newcomers with all the rancor he could muster. The Reploid Air Force was really a very small group. After Repliforce, the humans understandably refused to allow the former Repliforce officers cluster in large numbers. The force was mainly just a security patrol, and had brought with them only one small airship used mainly for transporting troops.

            But it was still enough, because all Storm Eagle had were five sentient flyers and a bunch of drones. In order for this to work, only one strategy could be employed: destroy the leader. Eagle summoned forth the final two Bee Bladers and positioned them at the right and left extremes of the aerial battlefield. He screamed a command to rush the Skiver, and this his minions did.

            The British Reploid just let them come, snorting in disgust at his hated opponents. He'd never expected things to go this far when Taggart had briefed him not a week earlier. But somehow it had come to this, and while the Ravens had held the aerial enemies back this long they could do it no longer. The small jets had all but retreated from the sky from danger of crashing due to lack of fuel. Two still circled the skies, the only two that still had charges left in their cannons. Well, two Ravens for two Bee Bladers, the Skiver decided. He had to stop Storm Eagle from further ravaging the Hunter ground forces, and there was only one way to do that.

            The Skiver became aware that Eagle's flying minions were speeding his way. Grinning slightly, the former Repliforce officer spread his large, alabaster wings and shot towards one of the oncoming Mavericks, a bat of sorts. The Pegasus glowed with strange white energies, and the bat was suddenly intimidated. Before it had a chance to get out of the way, however, the Skiver stopped on a dime and from his body shot a clone of sorts, composed entirely of blazing white energies. It struck the Maverick like a sword, slicing him nearly in half and dropping his remains to the ground below.

            It was an interesting feeling, the Skiver thought to himself as he gathered little storms of wind to his fists. Here he was fighting for the Maverick Hunters, a group he really disliked very much because they of course had been responsible for his own group's failure. His biggest grudge was for the demise of Colonel, a noble and honorable officer who had been killed for wanting nothing more than simple freedoms for his people. His murderer was not around, however, and that made things easier for the Reploid. The Skiver—that was a nickname, his real name was Spiral Pegacion but people had used his nickname for so long that he himself had mostly abandoned that first name—was only here because he hated the Mavericks far worse than he did the Hunters. Were it not for the Mavericks Repliforce would still be peacefully coexisting with the Hunters. This time, they'd gone too far, and it was time for them to be stopped.

            The Skiver unleashed his charged spiral winds and blasted all nearby targets away from him with sudden and unrelenting force. The Pegasus Reploid focused his steely eyes on the enraged Storm Eagle, shortly before the majestic Maverick unleashed a terrible Storm Tornado that blasted all the Air Force soldiers away from _him. So, this was to be a battle between giants, then. That was fine with the Skiver. He and Storm charged each other at the same time, playing a rather daring game of chicken since both could move at extreme speeds in the air. Then, at the last minute, they both screeched to a halt and attacked. The Skiver sent his energy wind clone streaking towards Eagle, but the Maverick had simply flapped his wings. The inexplicably large amount of power this simple gesture produced scattered the energies that made up the Skiver's clone. The Air Force officer was forced to remember that Storm Eagle's greatest advantage in the past had been his super-strong wings, and he damned himself for forgetting that._

            Storm Eagle had come this far for Commander Sigma and he'd be damned if he gave up now. With a screech that echoed throughout the whole Megacity, he dove into the stunned Skiver with a hurtling body crash attack that sent the other Reploid plummeting to the scorched earth below. Eagle threw back his head in what his comrades assumed to be laughter. They were corrected when Eagle snapped his neck forward and spat out a large egg. Once the slimy projectile hit the ground near the Skiver it shattered and four small mechaniloid birds popped out, converging on the Skiver like the little homing missiles they were.

            Acting as quickly as he could, the Pegasus lifted himself up off the ground with a powerful flap of his wings, letting one of the four missiles explode beneath him. Two other birds nailed him, exploding on impact and driving the Skiver back to the ground, but not before he shot out a wind clone that drew the other bird's attention. It exploded harmlessly a ways away. Snarling, the Skiver got shakily to his feet and then back into the air. Storm Eagle gave him no quarry. He came screaming at him again, but this time the Skiver had the good sense to dodge. As he did so he kicked out hard with his right hoof, catching Eagle in the side. The Maverick's scream broke off with a sudden gasp for breath and he spiraled out of control just long enough for the Skiver to shake out the cobwebs the last few attacks had created.

            A new strategy was in order for both of them. That much was clear. Fortunately for him, the Skiver identified his strategy before Eagle did. Above them, one of the two Bee Bladers went down due to an attack from Zion's nearby mass. The other one was flying nearby, dealing with the Reploid Air Force regulars. The Skiver shot up towards them, wind swirling around his fists and boots. He approached the occupied machine from the side and lashed out his fists and feet in simple but powerful martial maneuvers. The wind energy carried his limbs at great speeds, and so he was able to seriously damage the Bee Blader's armor with simple punches and kicks.

            The Blader registered the sudden extreme damage and turned to face the one causing it. The Skiver backed away, giving it room to fire, and fire it did, using its homing torpedoes instead of its machine gun…just as the Skiver had hoped.

            Storm Eagle, watching his adversary having fun and hating it, had screeched and darted his way again, a Storm Tornado ready to fire. When the Bee Blader fired its torpedoes they locked onto the Skiver immediately. The Pegasus dove to the side, letting Eagle and the missiles approach. Then, at the very last second, the Skiver looked Storm Eagle dead in the eye and smiled.

            A split second later a wind clone shot out and directed the missile's attention away from the Skiver and gave them a new target: Storm Eagle. The wide-eyed Maverick was struck by the mass of plasma-laced wind, and then by the full brunt of exploding Bee Blader torpedoes. Eagle screeched in pain and shock, feeling his internal reserves plummet to a dangerous low. He raised his arm cannon and looked for a target, but his vision was suddenly very blurry. Without any other option, the avian fired a Storm Tornado in a random direction and hoped he hit something.

            What happened was, there was a sudden crash, followed by a lot of enraged shouting. Eagle had little idea what was going on, so severe were his sudden wounds. They began to get worse. The Maverick became aware that people were shooting at him…in fact the whole of the Reploid Air Force was coming at him to help the Skiver finish the job. Shot after shot punctured his already spent armor, and finally his generator decided enough was enough. A message ran through Eagle's CPU telling him to get the hell out of there or die.

            There was no escape for Storm Eagle, but that didn't stop the dying Maverick from trying. His wings seemed fine, he thought, and he took to the skies…the very extreme skies. His vision was fading to black, and if he was still taking damage then he didn't know about it. The snow felt cold on his steel cheeks, and the sky darkened as the blizzard grew stronger. However, the gray clouds parted for one instant, allowing a ray of the morning sun to pass through and illuminate the rising avian. Storm Eagle's last sight was of a momentarily clear sky, and he thought that if he could just reach it everything would be fine again. Though when he thought about it, things were already fine. He'd done his job. He'd served Commander Sigma well. He would go to any extreme for Sigma, the champion of Reploids who'd pulled them all from ignorance and set them on the path of liberty. He'd even die for the cause, he thought as the darkness began to consume him. It wasn't so bad…he was flying again. He loved flying…he loved the open sky more than anything, and he couldn't think of a better place to…

            Storm Eagle's final attack had missed all the aerial combatants and instead struck an apartment skyscraper that's foundation had been damaged by the Buzzbomb shockwave. The Storm Tornado's colossal velocity had been the final straw, and the building snapped in half. It was impossible to say how many were now dead, since many had fled the building when the Maverick attack began, but the grisly sight had been enough to turn the Reploid Air Force into a bunch of madmen. They took potshots at Eagle's body as it fell from the sky and gave it no respite when it landed next to the remains of the Bee Blader that had fatally wounded him in the first place. The other aerial Mavericks had fled for their lives, and now only a few mindless drones remained to dispatch. The Ravens had completely fled the scene, going lord knew where to hide while Tremont tried to figure out how to restock them.

            The Skiver's eyes hadn't moved from the destroyed residential building. More civilians were now dead. Civilians had died all night, and only now were the soldiers dying. As a soldier himself the Skiver could not stand the thought of attacking noncombatants. Eagle hadn't deliberately attacked the building—in fact he was one of the few Mavericks left who had anything resembling a code of honor—but no one cared. All that mattered was that it had happened.

            The Skiver looked down to the battle at Asimov Lane. The Mavericks apparently knew that their aerial force had been completely removed, and they were worse for the wear because of it. The Hunters were slowly but surely pushing ahead…and the Skiver could see a sizable pack of Hunters sneaking away from the battlegrounds. In that instant all feelings of animosity fled the Skiver and for that moment he felt nothing but camaraderie for the Maverick Hunters, who now worked again with Repliforce to destroy the common Maverick foe.

            "Go get 'em, guys," the Skiver said as he elevated himself to deal with a drone. "Go get 'em."

            Darkness gave way to unwelcome light, and Vulcan was jolted rudely back into action when Rykov grabbed him by the arm and threw him across the street. He landed in a startled, helpless heap but he heard Rykov's machine gun thundering loud and clear in his ears. Able to do nothing else, he concentrated on remembering what in the world had happened. Oh yeah, a grenade…he checked his internal systems for damages. Surprisingly, he'd been spared serious damage. He didn't know it, nor would he ever, but the Hunter he'd killed accidentally had landed in front of him and the corpse had taken the full brunt of the shrapnel meant for Vulcan.

            The next thing he knew Rykov was hauling him to his feet, and he could see clearly again. "Where is everyone?" he asked first. He looked around and didn't see Derringer or anyone else. Then he became aware that Rykov was dragging him somewhere. When they stopped, Vulcan had recovered enough senses to fully get his bearings.

            They were somewhat secluded from the fighting, though bullets still came their way. Near them was Hawkins himself, his shoulder smoking from some wound. Derringer was there, and despite his mangled arm he looked better than when Vulcan had last seen him. He understood when Derringer tossed him a half-empty energy tank. Vulcan nodded and drained it, bringing himself back up to full capacity.

            The well-armored Gasket reappeared, his assault rifle clenched tightly in his hands. He said something to Hawkins, who waved them all to the east. Vulcan just followed and observed. He was vaguely aware of Hunters and Mavericks killing each other in the background, but he wasn't sure if anyone was making progress or not. All he knew was that his squad was still together and Hawkins seemed to have something up his sleeve. He soon found out what it was.

            "Here's the thing," Hawkins said when they all huddled under a large chunk of destroyed highway. Bullets whizzed past them, but it was an amazingly casual event for all of them. "Archer reports and Gasket confirms that a squadron of Hunters is pinned down to the east. They're probably stragglers from Zion's Delta party." The squad leader checked his heavy weapon and Rykov did the same. Vulcan absently felt for his weapons and made sure they were still there and still functional. Derringer somewhat feebly clutched a pistol in his remaining hand and Gasket didn't move. He apparently had recently tested his gun, and found it to be in perfect working order. The look on the human's face told Vulcan all he needed to know.

            "Let's go," Hawkins ordered, and the squad began to file out. "They're one block down, in the Pit!" Hawkins shouted over the noise pollution.

            Vulcan learned what the Pit was three minutes later. It wasn't a pit at all per se, but a mild crater surrounded by what looked like _Gallagher _debris. It was surrounded on most sides by debris or highway, and there seemed to Vulcan like a million places for a sniper to hide. In fact there were only four snipers hiding up in the highways, and they weren't very good at their work. Adaman bullets destroyed the road beneath the Hunters' feet, succeeding only in getting them to move with greater speed towards their destination.

            The first thing the besieged Hunters did when they saw Hawkins and his party was shoot at them. The small squadron split apart very quickly, and after some shouting the Hunters realized their folly. The delighted Mavericks kept on shooting, however, and a Hunter already present fell. There was a curious silence after this as the Hunter—a human—fell onto the street bleeding from the side. His pitiful moans were the only noise anyone could hear. Even the sounds of carnage from Point Alpha were drowned out.

            Then the moaning became shrieks of agony and horror as something hideous took place. Two lupine Mavericks leapt from the shadows, pounced on the downed human giddily and with great enthusiasm began tearing him apart. Blood and guts flew everywhere, and simple revulsion kept every Hunter rooted in place for a second. Then rage dominated Vulcan's heart and the Hunter quite simply stepped out of his cover, raised his rifle, and blew the midsection out of one of the Mavericks with a three-round burst of adaman bullets.

            The Maverick stared up at Vulcan in shock, human entrails still hanging from his teeth. Then he let out his own screech of pain and fell onto his stunned companion. Seconds later both were disintegrated by a concentrated onslaught of all the firepower the Hunters had. Hawkins leapt suddenly from the airship wreckage shielding him, pointed his rifle at Vulcan, and fired. The silver Hunter followed the shots past him and watched a Maverick armed with dual energy blades fall dead four feet away from his intended target. Vulcan looked back to the advancing Hawkins, who threw him a very sharp look. _Watch your flanks!_ They both thought at once.

            The Mavericks were leaping from the shadows and Hawkins and the others took care of them. Vulcan, chastised but still energized, retreated from the scene and quietly found a place beneath the wreckage of a _Gallagher _wing, curiously close to what remained of a Buzzbomb launcher. It figured. The Hunter switched on his rifle's farsight and curled into a crouching position. He scanned the battle scene in front of him and his sniper's eye began to locate bullets that seemed to be coming from where there were no enemies. He explored these areas, mostly on the highway, and lo and behold there was a sniper, clumsily reloading his weapon. Without even thinking about it Vulcan lined up a shot and nailed the son of a bitch in the chest. His generator exploded and he died. Vulcan began sweeping the highways for another target. By pure and simple luck he locked onto another sniper and shot him, too. The shot took the enemy in the arm rather than the desired mark in the torso, but it was enough for the Maverick, who shrunk away and was not seen again.

            Then something very scary happened: a laser exploded into the shredded metal above Vulcan's head. The shot, chillingly, did not come from a direction where Vulcan could see any soldiers. A cold feeling went through the sniper's body—now _he was being sniped! Someone had locked onto his position, and now he had to get the hell out of there before he died._

            It was at that precise moment that the world turned upside down yet again. There was a huge noise like the rumbling of the most treacherous thunder, and then a whole section of the wall of wreckage surrounding the "Pit" vanished as a tank drove through it. The behemoth was the very pinnacle of Megacity armored cavalry technology. Heavily reinforced with adaman armor and durable, fast moving treads, the tank moved with all the calm authority of the dark messenger, rumbling forth to issue the Hunters an invitation to Hell. The few remaining Mavericks dispersed and the Hunters dove for frantic cover as the tank's already focused barrel heated up. They were all too late.

            The explosion cracked Vulcan's helmet and left him dazed and bleeding out of an ear. When he opened his eyes the world was full of dust, and he could distinctly hear a very loud ringing in place of the carnage he'd expected. It took him surprisingly little time to recover from the tank's first attack, but as he switched on his infrared it became obvious that at least one other was not so lucky.

            The tank had stopped in the middle of the Pit, and before it lay Derringer's broken, bleeding body. The Hunter was moaning and begging for help that Vulcan could not see coming—all the other Hunters were hiding and watching the same hellish scene Vulcan was. Almost all of them, anyway…Vulcan saw two new corpses on the ground. He didn't know either of them, and that made him curiously joyful. Vulcan now had a better opportunity to observe the tank. In addition to its obvious cannon it had a monster of a machine gun positioned on the right side of the barrel, requiring only a daring gunner to man it…a gunner who Vulcan now saw, settling in behind the wicked gun's controls. That thing could probably mow down Archer's entire unit in seconds, Vulcan realized. He did the most obvious thing—he lined up his rifle for a shot at the gunner. It would be an easy shot. The tank was sitting still, after all, and—

            The ground before him exploded in a little burst, and Vulcan remembered that he had a sniper trying to kill him. He had to get _out _of here—

            "Nobody move!" a voice boomed on the tank's external speakers.

            "Help me…" Derringer's order was far less inspiring than the Maverick's.

            "Damn," Vulcan said aloud, his body beginning to shake. He had to move. He had to. There was no choice in the matter. But yes, there was, because if he moved Derringer would die. But if he didn't move, _he_ would die. Maybe. Then Vulcan noticed that the giant machine gun was swiveling as the gunner behind it began sweeping the area for targets. Vulcan realized that if he did run, the gunner would get him before he even broke into a full sprint. Fear gripped his heart with slimy, clammy hands. He turned his sweating head slowly, scanning the horizon with infrared sensors to pick up on his sniper's location, but the morning's battles had produced so much heat that infrared was useless at that distance. He switched it off and looked again at Derringer, who was trying to crawl on broken legs out of the way. How could they help him? How could they help themselves?

            Why wasn't anyone shooting the gunner? He was swiveling the huge weapon towards the largest concentration of Hunters. He was going to fire. They were just using Derringer to stall for time. Why didn't anyone else see that? Why didn't they understand that Derringer was going to die no matter what? _Why wasn't anyone shooting the gunner? Why aren't _I _shooting the gunner, Vulcan asked next. It was so simple. All he had to do was raise his weapon and stop the threat in its tracks. Then they could deal with the tank. Right, fine then. It was time to go. Vulcan's arms didn't move. _Damn it! _He cursed himself with all the vehemence he could muster. He hated his body for its refusal to obey his commands. What was so hard about it? Derringer would die anyway, so why was it so hard to fire the shot that would kill him?_

            "Help me…" Derringer was still sputtering, having given up on escape from the devil in charge of the tank. "It hurts…"

            That devil turned out to be Tetra. The junkyard worker who'd made possible the whole war was having a fine time keeping the Hunters at bay. He'd sped off to follow the renegade Hunter force, and he fully believed he'd pinned them all down here. Tetra sent a message informing his gunner to be ready, and then returned to his loudspeaker. "You want to save your friend? Surrender, then. I'll blow him away if you don't…and then you'll be next! So save yourselves the trouble, you assholes! You'll never defeat a tank."

            Derringer couldn't hear him anymore. He just laid there, his armor spent by shrapnel and his frame even more mangled than it had been going into the fight. Vulcan sat there nervously, not breathing. _Stop the gunner,_ he thought as loudly as he could. _Somebody DO something!_

            Someone did do something, and that someone was Tetra. He didn't blow Derringer away—he was too close for that. Instead he ran him over with the tank treads. The shrieking Hunter raised his good arm as though to defend against the behemoth and it was the first thing to snap off of him. The tank was a steamroller, and Derringer was now a pancake…more of an omelet, actually, a mixture of flesh, coolant, wires, servos, and scrap, all mushed into a sloppy goop.

            Vulcan came to life now that Derringer was no longer around to hinder him. It would later amaze and shame him to think that while Derringer's fate had been the annoyance that paralyzed them all his death had been the thing that energized them to fight. It made so very little sense. None of this made any sense at all, really. The silver Hunter hadn't had any idea that combat could get so confusing. He wasn't thinking of this at the moment, though, as every bit of his mind was consumed with a terrible rage at the sight of his friend being so brutally murdered. His one and only desire now was to get up and fight Tetra to the death and he was one hundred percent sure that nothing could stop him, at least until the sniper shot him through the arm and he fell back to the earth. That was an excruciating feeling—not the pain, but the sense of all that built up energy dissipating slowly and without any semblance of satisfaction.

            His friends made up for his lack of attack, however. A screaming mass of plasma, adaman bullets, and even a bazooka shell exploded into the side of the tank, the result of time spent awkwardly charging weapons while wondering what the hell to do next. The tank shuddered and turned its attention to the direction of the fire. Vulcan was surprised that the Hunters had all clustered so closely together, especially given the nature of their opponent. They began filing out of their hiding spots in a mad war rush, and Vulcan was glad that the sniper had prevented him from running out there with them because the gunner turned on his weapon and began to do just what Vulcan had predicted—he mowed them down. The weapon spouted flames like a dragon's maw and the huge, golden streaks of light that were armor piercing bullets—much more destructive than any normal adaman bullets—ripped much of the original Pit squad to pieces. Inside the tank, Tetra boomed with laughter as he realigned his tank barrel and fired again.

            Those who had been spared the gunner's wrath suffered next before Tetra's. Fire consumed them, and a sick feeling took Vulcan as he wondered which of his friends could possibly come out of that alive. The answer was a startling surprise—Rykov, Hawkins and Gasket ran out together along with two others Hawkins had picked up on the way to the pit. They all opened fire on the gunner, who tried to turn their way but pivoted the gun as far as it could go in one direction. Frantically he turned about the other way, but not before Rykov and Hawkins switched on their heavy weaponry. Vulcan didn't see what became of it, but he did see the gunner's weapon start up again, and that was enough for him. He raised his rifle to fire a burst at the gunner's exposed back, but the tip of his right foot exploded in pain. Sniper 2, Vulcan 0. Snarling and throwing caution to the wind Vulcan looked to the direction where the bullet had come, prepared to give the spot hell, but something else demanded his attention: foot soldiers.

            Vulcan surprised the Mavericks by running in their direction and simply firing like a madman. He struck one in the leg, and they both turned and fled out of more fear than anything. Vulcan next stopped to aim and the wounded one's head exploded with a satisfying sound, like a watermelon splattering on a sidewalk after a long fall. He tried to get the other one but he was out of ammo. He swore and took evasive action just in case someone was trying to get him. He uploaded his last ammo cartridge—_that _was depressing on so many levels—and turned back to the action just as the sniper shot the ground dangerously near him. Sooner or later that damned hidden evil would get lucky, and Vulcan wasn't about to let that happen.

            With a roar of vengeance, the enraged Hunter let some of the Derringer anger brew up inside him as he ran towards the highways, his arm cannon activated on his unwounded arm—the wounded one was hurt but not bad enough that it couldn't carry the rifle—and unleashed a charged blast up at a point where he knew the sniper had to be somewhere near. It was a fool's shot, an attack that would never possibly bear any results, except of course in this particular instance. Vulcan was blessed with an almost insane amount of luck today, and the shot flew far closer to the hidden sniper than Vulcan could ever have imagined. The startled Maverick leapt in fright as the shot passed by, lost his footing, dropped his weapon and fell off the highway far down to the city below. Vulcan never knew this, though, and just remained content in that he'd sent a message, relying on luck and hoping the sniper wouldn't bother him for the remainder of the war.

            Vulcan looked back just in time to see one of Hawkins's two new friends—the one who had the bazooka—launch a rocket right into the machine gun, which looked damaged already. Vulcan briefly wondered why no one had leapt aboard the tank and turned the gun against it, but he didn't know that Megacity tanks were designed to guard against such an action. The gun and the gunner vanished in a screaming tower of fire, and the tank itself shuddered very violently. At the same time it shot backwards on its speedy treads, startling the Hunter with the bazooka and causing him to scamper backwards. His balance was already off from the bazooka recoil and he fell, his weapon rolling away from him. Fortunately, Tetra stopped before driving over him. Unfortunately, a Maverick foot soldier shot him in the head.

            So absorbed was Vulcan in the moment that neither he nor his comrades had really noticed a new Maverick presence arriving at the scene. It seemed that Boomer and Gravity had realized how dangerous the Hunter strategy really was, and were dispatching more and more troops to Point Delta. Since the Pit was on the way, many felt obliged to help their partners in crime defeat the ragtag Hunter group under Hawkins.

            "Watch it!" Hawkins thundered, but Gasket would do no such thing. The human raced towards the new Maverick squad, much as Vulcan had done, and began unloading his weapon. Vulcan followed his example and dropped three stunned Mavericks in five seconds. It became automatic. He shot, redirected, shot, redirected, shot, and on it went, and all his shots were hitting, in sharp contrast to the rest of the morning. Eventually he and Gasket lost too much ground and had to retreat, but Rykov met the enemy with a rumbling heavy machine gun that did to the Mavericks what Tetra's gunner had done to the Hunters.

            Speaking of Tetra, the tanker was giving Hawkins a very hard time. As soon as Vulcan realized how alone Hawkins was he raced to help. Hawkins had selected the treads as a target, but even with his machine gun it would take forever to wear away at those things. Fortunately the other added Hunter had scooped up his friend's bazooka and reloaded it. He approached the tank from the opposite side and fired into the treads, shredding them and briefly disabling the tank.

            Hawkins moved with very admirable speed. The daring Hunter raced to the still tank and drew three grenades from his utility belt. He pulled the pins on all three and lodged them in the tread wheels, just as he heard them groan in protest as Tetra ordered them to move again. Hawkins then ran his ass away from there, motioning for Vulcan to do the same. Seconds later the other side of the tank's treads exploded, and Tetra's voice shrieked over the loudspeaker he'd forgotten to turn off.

            Rykov and Gasket fled from their corner of the Pit as a much-reduced squadron of Mavericks trickled in. Vulcan shot one down and moved for cover when he saw Tetra redirecting the tank barrel his way. They had to knock that thing out of commission before Tetra got the treads moving again. But how? Vulcan looked for the Hunter with the bazooka. It seemed to be the only weapon capable of doing the job. He found the Hunter just as he finished reloading his weapon. He raised it just in time to draw the attention of two other Mavericks. Rykov and Vulcan both saw it and cried out warnings that were too late. The Hunter fell wounded and his bazooka was lost under a pile of shrapnel. Rykov did nail one of the attackers, though.

            Hawkins shouted something in a very frantic, distressed tone. Vulcan turned around just in time to see Tetra's tank barrel coming down right in his direction. The Hunter's world crashed around him as he very quickly realized there was no escape. Rykov was already moving and might get out of the blast radius, but he himself could never get far enough before the fire started. Everything started moving in slow motion, including his arm that was converting into a cannon and coming up towards the tank. Vulcan didn't stop the reflex action. After all, if he was going to die, why not go out strong?

            "Strong" was not how anyone would describe what came out of his blaster. It was a regular blast fired quickly, and looked nothing like the massive plasma rays that had been needed to previously damage the tank. But Vulcan wasn't aiming for the armor, and even in desperation his aim was true. The shot flew through the air and straight into the tank barrel. Such an attack could have no effect on the tank except to stun it, and even that only happened once in a blue moon, and even if it had it wouldn't have mattered, because Tetra had already fired the shot…much to Vulcan's benefit. It impacted the plasma about halfway through the barrel and everything went straight to hell.

            The premature explosion peeled the barrel back like a banana, or something straight out of a cartoon. The melted metal then disappeared in the fiery explosion, which just got worse as the tank cockpit felt the effects of the detonation. The tank began blowing up from the inside out. Gouts of fire exploded out of its sides, and the entire top section actually fell off, the remnants of the gun and the barrel clanging hard onto the ground. Fire flew freely in burning tongues across the battlefield, scalding combatants on both sides. The Mavericks watched the death of their behemoth with amazed eyes, though none were as amazed as Vulcan, who'd shot a tank with a peashooter and destroyed the whole thing. The explosion set him flat on his ass, and there he sat while recovering his senses, a dangerous thing on the battlefield especially when the enemy has just gotten really pissed off.

            The tank's demise did not dishearten the Mavericks. Rather, they became infuriated. They rushed forward bellowing obscene, vulgar war cries and opening wild streams of fire. Vulcan, Rykov, Gasket and Hawkins shrunk away from them, realizing in stunned horror that even though they'd taken out the major enemy the minor ones would inevitably overpower them.

            Then something happened that none of them expected—more combatants joined the fray, and none of them bore Maverick symbols. The enemy looked around in shock as the Hunter reinforcements came upon them. It was a large squad…a squad of Unit 17. A woman with long white hair and a nasty looking lightsaber floated like a spirit among the Mavericks, cleaving their lives away with elegant yet vicious swings of her saber.

            "Scylla!" Vulcan heard Hawkins exclaim when the two sergeants met up.

            "We got separated from the main unit," Scylla explained as she cut down a Maverick offender. "I was leading them to Point Delta."

            "Nice of you to get lost," Hawkins said, suddenly in a wry mood. "I mean that."

            Scylla just smiled and got back to work, her troops doing a good job of countering the Maverick reinforcements. Rykov let out a triumphant whoop and rejoined the fray. Vulcan ran to follow him, but turned his sights to a group of combatants near the demolished, burning tank. He fired a series of shots their way, in his excitement forgetting to take proper time to aim. He adjusted that and dropped one Maverick with a chest wound. It was good to be winning again, he thought.

            His good mood vanished when something entirely unbelievable happened: Tetra sprang from the wreckage of his tank and tackled Vulcan, dragging an energy dagger across his upper chest. It was meant for his throat, but Tetra hadn't exactly been in a position for flawless coordination. They rolled over each other on the ground until Vulcan found himself pinned under the mad Maverick's form. The unimpressive but still competent Maverick spat in Vulcan's eye just before slamming his dagger down towards the Hunter's head. Vulcan moved his head to the right, feeling the dagger slice open his cheek. With a yelp of pain he surged upwards, knocking Tetra off him. The Maverick staggered back awkwardly and Vulcan, an evil glare in his eyes, raised his assault rifle and fired straight at Tetra's chest.

            He was out of ammo.

            Vulcan blinked, stunned, while Tetra laughed wickedly and approached with surprising speed. Vulcan, slow to react, was gashed across the stomach with the knife and in a frenzy smashed the broadside of his empty rifle into Tetra's face. The Maverick gagged on something—a tooth—and staggered back. But he came forth much faster, delivering a solid punch to Vulcan's face and tearing his slashed flesh even more. The sting brought tears to Vulcan's enraged eyes and he threw the weapon to the ground, converting his arm to a cannon while reaching with his wounded arm for his lightsaber. Tetra kept coming, and it was all Vulcan could do to stop his martial maneuvers. Then the Maverick suddenly snapped his wrist out and flung the dagger into Vulcan's collar, dangerously near his throat. Gagging in surprised pain and experiencing the sensation of death, Vulcan did the only thing he could do—he raised his weak arm cannon and shot Tetra.

            The Maverick yelped as the plasma burned his synthetic skin and recoiled, allowing time for Vulcan to yank the dagger out—an agonizing action—and toss it to the ground in a rage. He instantaneously reprimanded himself for not thinking to throw it at its owner. He put it out of mind and activated his lightsaber, rushing Tetra with his weapon held high.

            Tetra had apparently never come face to face with a lightsaber before, because his eyes went wide and he leapt backwards in fear. Encouraged, Vulcan surged at him with very rapid steps, ready to annihilate this Maverick scum once and for all.

            He slipped on the slick ground and fell, bathing himself in a wet mixture of…something. Tetra's face split into the most sardonic smile Vulcan had ever seen, and he was immediately dying to know what was so funny. Then Tetra drew another smaller dagger from his belt and approached the stunned Hunter to thrust the knife into his neck. At this distance, there was no way he could miss. Rykov finally realized this too, and blew half of Tetra's lower abdomen out with a single round from his machine gun. The Maverick's formerly giddy eyes went very wide with shock and pain, and he staggered away from Vulcan, alive but very wounded.

            Vulcan sat up slowly, feeling the sticky tar-like substance peel off of him as he did so. It was like falling into a puddle of paint, only with bits of metal in it. He felt something leathery on the back of his neck and pulled it off quickly, shuddering at the feeling. His mechanical heart stopped when he realized what it was—a face. A scream escaped the Hunter's lips as he realized that he had Derringer all over him.

            Rykov had traversed the distance to his friend and with a mighty cry he hauled Vulcan up and out of the Derringer soup, scooping their friend's mangled face out of Vulcan's paralyzed hands and wiping the as much goop off the silver one's face and hair as he could. Vulcan just stayed in his own little world, shivering, completely immersed in the horror of the moment. Rykov hadn't the slightest idea what to do—his own heart had yet to start beating again. The _concept _of Vulcan's plight was enough to drive Rykov mad. "Come on," he said as calmly as he could, leading his friend away from the shooting grounds. "Hang in there, Vulcan…Jesus Christ!" He turned his head away in revulsion, and would have vomited if he'd had the ability. Blood was all his kind could spit up, and that was only due to a wound.

            Neither realized that the shooting grounds weren't really shooting grounds anymore. Scylla was mopping up the remaining Maverick resistance and Hawkins was crouching near the Hunter who'd possessed the bazooka second, his apparent friend. He had a nasty wound in his stomach, and Hawkins was seething with maddening rage. It grew worse when he saw what had happened to Vulcan and Rykov, and when he saw the greasy wet smear that he knew had to be Derringer he lost what was left of his mind. Hawkins picked up his weapon and marched over to where Tetra was poorly nursing his gaping wound. The Unit 5 squadron leader wordlessly pointed his gun at the Maverick, who was blustering pathetic protests, and unloaded his heavily destructive weapon. Hawkins blew Tetra to atoms, bellowing one extended scream of rage through the whole thing. Finally the clip emptied and his voice switched to something between anguish and great frustration. He stepped back a few feet from the execution grounds and slumped down to his knees, leaned on his weapon, and shuddered. He didn't cry, nor had he any desire to. He just shuddered.

            Vulcan did the same thing. Rykov kept a firm hand on his friend's shoulder, constantly reassuring him that it was over, that it would pass, but Vulcan knew it would never pass. He'd had Derringer's face on the back of his neck, and he had Derringer's blood and guts all over his body, in his hair, hell, probably even in his mouth. He existed in a quagmire of horror and revulsion, his young mind shattered as the sickening event replayed over and over in an endless loop. He wanted to shut it off, and he didn't care how he had to do it. Never in his life had Vulcan wanted to die, but at this moment he would have taken the option without a second thought, just to stop this agonizing, wrenching, disgusting moment in its tracks.

            But he could not die, because Rykov would not let him, and Vulcan mentally thanked his best friend a hundred times over for not getting killed and for sticking around him now. He concentrated on Rykov, he replayed their earlier battles of the morning, and he remembered all the successes they'd had. He tried to remember that they'd even stopped a tank, but that thought was too closely connected with Derringer, and he shut it out of his mind. He was not aware when Scylla approached them in a sort of silent reverence. Rykov, however, was fully aware.

            "This is the one who took out the tank?" Scylla asked him quietly, her white hair stained with dark Reploid blood.

            "Yeah." Rykov nodded his head towards the tank's remains. "Then…"

            "I know." Scylla looked at Vulcan's torn face and her own features softened. The lifelong Huntress perfectly identified Vulcan's crisis as one she herself had been faced with once. Most of her friends, in fact, had experienced something similar in their careers. Mega Man X himself had been painted with Zero's blood at one horrible moment in time.

            Rykov saw her recognition and begged for help. "How…"

            She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. "This is the best thing you can do. Don't leave him alone," she said ominously but accurately. Rykov absorbed it and solemnly nodded. Scylla looked at Vulcan again and a sigh escaped her lips. Then she left them and started walking towards Hawkins.

            As the white haired Huntress walked she glanced at her sharp, menacing saber and remembered the first time she'd been forced to use it. She remembered the first time blood had splashed all over her, the first time she'd taken a life…and the first time she'd ever had a nightmare. Half of her damned Vulcan for forcing her to remember all of it, but the other half was grateful. It brought her back down to earth. It reminded her of the exact nature of what she did in combat, and that nature was pure unrefined evil. It was as evil as it was when she'd first discovered it. Such a shame, she thought, that people as young as Vulcan had to experience such a thing.

            It was the price some soldiers paid, she reflected sullenly. It was, at least, the price her Commander X had paid.

            Zion couldn't thank his lucky stars enough when he beheld the series of roads that was Point Delta. The Maverick concentration was as sparse as they'd all hoped. The Hunters of Units 17 and 20 surged forth with great enthusiasm as the Mavericks scrambled to meet them. Five dead Mavericks later and they accepted the futility of their resistance and fled. Zion threw Jasper a triumphant look as they stepped behind enemy lines and rushed for the road leading to Signas's location. The Maverick Hunters had broken through Frontline. They just hoped they weren't already too late.

            Erich Zegmann gave the order, and a calamity of heavy firepower roared into the Maverick ranks, devastating them further. Frontline was falling back, but somehow they kept on fighting. No one knew of Zion's gains quite yet.

            Boomer Kuwangner and Gravity Beetle were still causing trouble, and the Hunter commanders Archer and Mason had finally approached their positions. Archer went straight for the spindly Kuwangner while Mason went for his more heavily armored brother.

            Archer sprang from a crowd of combatants and fairly surprised Kuwangner, who still recovered well. He lashed out with a spindly foot and knocked Archer's sword arm askew. Both combatants recovered their stances and dove at each other with a fury that surprised and warned away nearby soldiers. The sadistic Kuwangner leapt into the air over Archer's head, leaving his Boomerang Cutter in his wake. The deadly blade curved down towards Archer while Kuwangner landed behind him. Archer merely dove to the side, avoiding Kuwangner's kick. The lanky Maverick scooped his weapon out of the air and leapt again towards Archer, slashing the Cutter his way. Archer parried the blow with his own rush, his sword knocking the boomerang out of Kuwangner's hands. He continued on and punched the Maverick hard in the face…or he would have, had Kuwangner not bent his head back to let the punch slide overhead. He drove his own fist into Archer's midsection and quite suddenly vanished. He reappeared near his Cutter and he scooped it back into his hands.

            Archer swore, remembering Kuwangner's short-range teleporter. The Maverick used it again after snapping the Cutter back on his head, reappearing behind Archer and snapping the Cutter around his waist. Archer swore more sharply as Kuwangner performed his Dead Lift attack, snapping his body straight upright and throwing Archer at very high speeds into the air.

            Fortunately there was no ceiling in the great outdoors for him to smash his metal bones against, and Archer was a quick thinker. As soon as he realized what was going on he twisted his body and flung his sword arm downwards. His ornate red lightsaber slammed into the ground at Kuwangner's feet, scaring him and prompting another warp. He warped back when he decided to steal the Hunter's sword.

            This was precisely what Archer counted on. Like many combat Reploids Archer had an innate special attack, and his was called the Thunder Seeker. Archer's arm cannon activated and he uploaded the program for his special maneuver. The sword on the ground gave off a faint glow as did his arm cannon, and from the cannon erupted large, concentrated bursts of plasma energy. They actually had nothing to do with thunder other than the fact that they could blow things up, but Archer just liked the name for his attack. The lasers homed in on the sword, their targeting beacon, which Kuwangner held in his hands. The Maverick learned firsthand why his opponent was named Archer.

            Kuwangner let out a frustrated screech and dropped the weapon, his armor damaged by the Thunder Seeker. Archer landed rather awkwardly, but recovered quickly enough. He dashed forward to grab his sword but Kuwangner was no longer playing the game. The spindly beetle teleported away from the area, moving progressively backwards into the Frontline. Archer allowed himself a smile and chocked up another victory for himself.

            Mason's powerful bazooka buster sent a large burst of plasma flying at Gravity Beetle, who shielded himself with his thick wings. Nevertheless he nearly fell over due to the force of the attack.

            The problem with his blaster was that it took it a few seconds to recharge. Mason used his free time to encroach on Gravity's space, hoping to cover the distance before the Maverick pulled off one of his notorious attacks. It was not to be. Gravity rose from underneath his wings with a ball of energy already in his hands. It exploded out into Mason, sending him flying through the air like the Hunters Gravity was tossing around earlier. When he finally got to his feet he had to beat back a Maverick soldier, and by then Gravity was more than ready for him. The powerful Maverick sent a Gravity Well into the air, and the pulsating orb of energy began gathering all nearby matter to it like the black hole it was. Rather than being repelled, Mason was dragged in the Maverick's direction while the enemy positioned the huge blades on his curved snout to impale him when he arrived.

            Glaring, Mason raised his cannon and fired straight into Gravity as he approached. It was almost comical to see the way the Maverick's eyes widen before the shot hit him dead in the chest, sending him flat on his back. The Gravity Well dissipated and Mason touched down, leveling his cannon to launch another shot just as soon as it was ready.

            It was about at this moment when Hunters and Mavericks alike learned about Zion's breach at Point Delta. The Hunters let out a collective shout and surged forth while the Mavericks fell back in dismay. Gravity Beetle, realizing his predicament, spread his wings and activated the powerful thrusters underneath them. He shot into the air away from Mason, who sent a burst of plasma up after him. The shot missed, but as soon as the Mavericks saw their armored leader retreating they too began to scatter. Archer and Mason threw each other glances of victory and behind them Zegmann started moving Unit 15 forward, pressing the Mavericks who were resisting back even further. Frontline had fallen to the determined Hunter force, and now it was time for the more delicate part of the day…

            …The reclamation of Maverick Hunter Headquarters from the hands of the enemy.

            Tiberius gave the all-clear signal and his little party stole as quietly as they could down the long hallway leading towards the storage room. "Nothing's coming," Damia kept reporting via communicator from her vantage points inside the ventilation system. Tiberius counted on it and kept moving. Cain, Ledyard, Carlton, Krysta and Nightchaser were remarkably alert considering their situation, and Tiberius certainly gave them credit for that.

            Every step down that final hallway caused Tiberius's heart to beat a little slower. The storage room was the closest thing they had to a sanctuary. Inside would be weapons and communication equipment. Inside would be a chance at salvation. But all that needed to happen was for one Maverick to come around the corner at the other end of the hall and all would be lost. Tiberius would shoot him dead with his pistol, but the pistol was not silenced and someone would be bound to pick up on the noise. Finally after what seemed like hours he arrived at the locked door to the storage center. Ledyard stood guard with his rifle at the ready while Tiberius removed his keys and unlocked the door. Then he took a deep breath and opened them.

            It was dark inside, and the first thing Tiberius did was turn on his internal infrared sensors. Immediately he locked onto a life form and raised his pistol suddenly. "Who's there?" he asked, and immediately wondered with dread how loudly he'd actually said the words.

            His target wasn't exactly squeamish. He was a human in casual clothing, dropped into an expert stance with his own pistol leveled at Tiberius. His green eyes were unwavering at first, but they did blink in recognition after a second or two. "Tiberius."

            "Kevin," Tiberius identified him as Caligula's protégé. He lowered his weapon and turned off infrared. "So you're still here."

            "Close the door," Kevin Seitz hissed unnecessarily. Ledyard had ushered the rest of them in and was closing the doors as Seitz spoke. "They haven't been by here yet. I didn't know who you were."

            "Likewise." Tiberius allowed himself to relax a little. He wiped sweat from his brow and looked to see his comrades already grabbing and loading what few spare machine and regular pistols were left. The medical chief touched his communicator. "You still with us?"

            "Already on my way," Damia replied in a voice that was remarkably nonchalant. "Look up."

            Tiberius did so and saw the vent shaft on the upper right wall. It was actually very easily accessible to them, he noted. Damia might use it to enter the room, but anyone could use it to get out. "We need to get through to Signas," he told Seitz. The young intelligence officer, paid to be a mind reader, was already handing Tiberius a radio. "Thanks. Hello?" he asked after he entered Signas's frequency. With any luck the electromagnetic pulse _Gallagher had shot the HQ with before its Buzzbomb attack would have dissipated by now. "Anyone there?"_

            No one was at the other end, but Damia chose the moment to arrive at this end. She rapped on the grate to let them know not to shoot her, and then forcibly removed the grate, slipping her body out of the cramped steel tunnel and down to the floor below. She set the grate aside and looked curiously at Tiberius, who still picked up nothing but static. If Signas still existed, he was too busy to answer his communicator. The thought deeply disturbed everyone in the room.

            "You'd better take this, Commander," Dr. Ledyard said, pressing a loaded machine pistol into Damia's hands. "No telling how ugly things might get."

            "Nice choice," Damia said genuinely. The rapid-fire pistol was much easier to get into the ventilator, and she had some premonition that they'd have to get into the ventilators before this was all over. Ledyard nodded and went back to cleaning his own weapon. Dr. Carlton allowed himself only a pistol, considering his main business to be keeping the wounded on their feet.

            One of the "wounded" was not exactly one to fight in battles, but on the flip side Dr. Cain did not like feeling helpless. He took a pistol for himself, knowing that if he had to use it he was in a losing situation anyway. Still, the aging scientist thought, it was somehow more acceptable to die after sending a few of the bastards to the grave before him, a feeling that flew against the principles he'd lived all his life, but somehow seemed perfectly applicable in these desperate times. Cain knew enough about his situation to be afraid but strangely enough he didn't care as much as he thought he should. It didn't seem to sink in that death was right at his doorstep. After having lived through so much already, it was hard for Cain to comprehend being killed by Mavericks.

            Krysta was in the worst shape of the lot. Her side was numbed as much as Carlton could numb it without knocking her out, but it still hurt like hell. She marveled at every step she took how Scythe's weapon hadn't managed to pass right through her. The crystalline armored junior Huntress was getting much more than she'd ever bargained for by joining the Hunters. Never once did she think she'd be hiding with some of the most revered members of the whole force while in the belly of the beast, which was oddly enough their own backyard and not Seraph Castle, as everyone had first suspected. She wondered how things were going over in the Catskills. Were the Mavericks celebrating yet? Were the kingpins drinking merrily at the confirmation of all the mindless deaths they'd caused today? She was sure they were, and it sickened her. She hoped they died. She hoped they all died in the worst ways possible, mostly because she knew she would never live to do it herself. Even though Krysta was very young, she had no delusions about fighting off a whole Maverick force while wounded as badly as she was. And death was not so bad, she decided, especially when it was compared with capture. She'd seen the images of Maverick prisoners, and she knew what kinds of things the Mavericks did to their captives. The hole in her side was a big neon sign saying, "Torture Me". The more she reflected on this the more dying became her actual goal for the day. She didn't _want to survive. Death equaled safety from agony, and agony was all the Mavericks promised to Hunters. At least, she reflected with a glance at Cain and Ledyard, she was not a human. She might be humiliated and hurt, but the Mavericks would never spend the kind of time on her that they would a human, especially such a hated human as Cain._

            Nevertheless the concept still haunted her, and the fear was enough to make her turn to Nightchaser and say "Don't let them take me alive."

            Nightchaser let out a slow breath when he heard the statement. "Only," he said evenly, "if you promise me the same thing." He too feared a death in captivity, but not for the same reasons Krysta did. Threat of physical pain did not frighten Nightchaser, but the concept of such an ignoble, humiliating demise revolted him. If he had to be killed by a Maverick it would be in combat, he resolved, and not in a torture chamber or as a civilian on the streets. He knew, of course, that Krysta could care less about such things and made her the promise only because he saw no reason to force suffering on her. He might never get along with Krysta, Vulcan and Rykov in civilian life but in combat they were all allies, and Nightchaser never had any qualms about helping allies in combat. That was part of the reason he'd resisted Scythe with such zeal. He hated Mavericks with a passion, and his personal hatred of Scythe exploded like a volcano when his identity was revealed and even more so when Chase considered that the abominable Reploid had been playing him for a fool. The final straw was the fact that Scythe had attacked noncombatants, people who couldn't defend themselves. He'd attacked Krysta from behind, and Chase wasn't about to let the bastard get away after that.

            Krysta nodded to Chase's condition and he nodded back, settling the grisly deal. Hopefully, both thought in the part of their minds that could still fathom survival, they would not be forced to carry through on their offer. And if he did, Chase thought with an actual wry grin breaking out on his face, he had better die also, because there was _no way that asshole Vulcan would believe that he'd killed Krysta out of mercy. Such a situation he had with that crowd…well, Vulcan was a prick, but Chase also was a prick, and he often proudly stated it. He supposed he could respect Vulcan for his prickitude._

            "What's going on in the city?" Tiberius was asking Seitz.

            "I was about to ask you the same question," the young officer responded. "I know I heard a few big bangs after the Buzzbomb hit this place, so I can't help but wonder if…"

            "Yeah," Tiberius nodded solemnly. "This whole situation sucks."

            "So let's get out of it," Damia said forcefully. "That shaft will lead you to the electrical center if you follow it straight. From there it's a short run to one of the back exits. It's cramped, and no assault rifles are gonna fit in there, but it's better than staying in here." She gestured to Ledyard. "You go up first."

            Ledyard was already replacing his rifle with a machine pistol, taking plenty of ammo along. "Tiberius isn't gonna fit."

            "Tiberius can teleport," the medic said himself in a bit of third person behavior. "But I'm not going anywhere until we get everybody out of here."

            Kevin Seitz was next. He went of his own accord, holstering not one but two pistols and climbing with admirable, youthful agility into the vent.

            "Can you get up?" Tiberius asked Cain. The old man could not, and Tiberius and Carlton carefully helped him into the confined area, both worrying about how the old man would manage.

            "Carlton, get up after him." Damia ushered the Reploid doctor to where the human doctor was climbing into the shaft. Cain actually threw them a thumbs up and vanished into the darkness. Carlton pocketed as many medical supplies as he could fit and followed his colleague into the shaft. "Who's next into the Hall of Claustrophobia?" Damia asked dryly, her eyes falling on Nightchaser. "You. Can you fit?"

            Nightchaser had already started removing his bulkier bits of armor. It was a hard thing to do, but it was necessary. It would be a tight fit, but the Reploid could do it. He looked somewhat awkwardly back at Krysta. He wanted to make sure she made it. As the two most junior members of the little party, they both figured they ought to stick together. Krysta limped after him and Chase got started hoisting himself into the vent. "Christ," he said instantly. "This is gonna suck so bad…"

            It sucked worse than any of them could have guessed, because at that moment a storm of energized Maverick voices filled the halls outside the storage room. "Shit," Tiberius and Damia said at once as the latter rushed to close the lights, just in case any light was spilling out through the door cracks into the hallway. Chase, suddenly blinded, swore again and earned a nervous punch in the leg from Krysta below him. He realized that there was no way for him to do it quietly, so he decided to do it quickly and squirmed into the vent, forcing himself to keep his vulgarities under his breath.

            Krysta was next. She made out Damia giving her a frantic "go" signal in the dark and clumsily began her climb. The Mavericks outside were excited about the way the battles were going outside. Boomer Kuwangner and Gravity Beetle were returning to this place, they had been told, and here a final stand would be made, inside the Hunters' own home base! They were finally now able to explore the whole HQ interior looking for any more hostages. They'd found a few and kept them as bargaining chips, as they'd been ordered, but they were still hungry for more. It was a lethal game of hide and seek, and all the hiding Hunters knew that their number would be up as soon as the noise of a single gunshot resonated throughout the halls.

            Krysta didn't fire any guns but she did the next worse thing. She slipped in the darkness, lost both her grip and her footing, gasped in shock and fell into a shelf of radios, knocking over the shelf and spilling the contents loudly onto the ground.

            The sound like was like thunder in their ears. Damia and Tiberius both promptly freaked, raising their weapons and whispering frantically for the vent party to MOVE IT. Krysta herself lay on the floor paralyzed by a monster stab of pain in her side—the corner of the shelf had dug into her wound. The overwhelmed Damia moved like a madwoman, scooping her up and hauling her roughly back towards the vent. She helped the agonized young Huntress up to the vent and Tiberius helped shove her in. They were at a disadvantage because Nightchaser was too big to turn around and help pull, and thus everything relied on pushing.

            The Mavericks hadn't missed the noise. Cries of alarm rang out from the hallways and both Damia and Tiberius swore with great vehemence. They finally got Krysta into the vent just as the doors burst open and two Mavericks entered. Tiberius got them both with his assault rifle. The sounds radiated throughout the building, and it seemed to Tiberius like there was no one on earth who shouldn't be able to hear them. It was useless to try and hide the bodies since their blood was splattered all over the walls, and so Tiberius and Damia switched on their infrared and pulled the doors shut.

            "What the hell do we do now?" Tiberius asked, his cool exterior shattered.

            "Don't panic," said Damia, even though her voice bordered on panic. "We're gonna have to make a break for it."

            "Why not use the vents?" Tiberius asked. "You're small. You can fit."

            "No," Damia shook her head, fear apparent in her eyes, fear that was not for herself but for others. "The vents are obvious. They're gonna smoke 'em out. Grenades," she added when Tiberius didn't understand. "We have to stall them until the others make some progress." To try and help her planned charade, Damia ran to replace the grate to the vent.

            "So we can't teleport?" Tiberius confirmed, breathing heavily.

            "No, we gotta buy them time." Damia crossed back over to him and forced confidence back onto her face. "We're not licked yet. Get to the others in the electrical room…the long way."

            Tiberius caught his breath. "What about you?"

            The younger Reploid's confidence wavered, despite her efforts to maintain it. "I'll draw them away from the halls you'll use. I'm better in a fight than you, pal. I'll keep them busy longer."

            "Don't do that," Tiberius protested lamely. He knew she was right but still hated the thought of leaving her to fend for herself. They'd been friends for too long not to think that way. Plus he'd promised Delates over the radio when Damia had been sent back that he'd take care of her for him, and he did not think Delates would react well to his significant other's demise. "You'll die if you do this."

            She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head in an unidentifiable emotion. "I'm…not just gonna stand there, you know?" She looked at him with as much conviction as she could as the Maverick voices outside grew closer. "I'll be fine." Her show of confidence, feeble as it was, was as reassuring as it had always been. "Just don't forget what you have to do. Get Cain and the others out of here alive! You're the healer. That's your job."

            Outside the Mavericks saw their dead comrades. "In there!" one of them shouted.

            "We won't leave you behind," Tiberius said with as much conviction as he himself could muster.

            Damia looked back at him with an appreciative but hopeless half-smile. She bade farewell to her old friend with her eyes and smashed the doors open, flooring the approaching Mavericks. Something took over in her then and with an imposing cry she opened a spray of continuous gunfire while racing down the halls, mowing down anything in her way like some action heroine out of a movie.

            The Mavericks were very eager to be duped. Shouts of "After her!" and "Don't let her get away!" rang throughout the halls as all the Mavericks forgot about the storage room and chased Damia. Tiberius ran out after counting to ten and blew the brains out of the only nearby Maverick. That settled, he had to make his escape. It was the hardest thing he ever did, because every impulse told him to follow Damia and he could not do that. He had to leave his old friend to her own designs. He had to worry about the others, who needed his help more.

            Tiberius breathed a curse at the Fates and ran. He ran faster than he'd ever thought he could, making his way towards the electrical center. He gunned down a Maverick as he rounded the corner, making no war cries to divert attention from Damia. He did check his internal scanner and was pleased to learn that Damia's signal was still going strong. "Hang in there," he whispered as he ran. "As long as you're still with us, we're not going anywhere without you."

            Damia was very unconcerned with living or dying at the moment. For now all she cared to do was run. She was a fairly accomplished sprinter, since after all she was the leader of a guerilla unit. It was much harder for her because she had people running behind her and people appearing in front of her. Every time she rounded a corner she started shooting, always downing a group of Mavericks who'd been coming around the corner at the same time. She didn't rightly know where she was going, but as long as she was on the run she might as well go for the exit farthest away from the electrical center—the Buzzbomb hole.

            It wasn't long before the Huntress's ammunition ran out. There was no way for her to change cartridges in the middle of her sprint so she just pointed the weapon threateningly at her would-be attackers, roaring or leaping at them as she did so. She clubbed anyone in her way with the gun's hilt and as she rounded corners she hoped as hard as she could that no one would be immediately around the corner. This worked for two corners, and then at the third she ran right into three Mavericks who'd been running at their own breakneck speed to reach the party.

            Damia flew backwards on the ground but rebounded admirably. She surged forward and stabbed the barrel of her gun into one Maverick's eye. She dropped the weapon and leapt onto the tallest one's back, breaking his neck as quickly as she could. Tirelessly the Huntress dropped to the ground and tried to dispatch the third Maverick, but he had already recovered from the impact and punched her hard in the chest. She recoiled and ran, not bothering to fight, but by this time soldiers had caught up from behind and in front. They seemed to be in a brawling mood, much to Damia's dismay. _Damn_, she thought. _Is this is it, then? Well…then let the bastards come!_

            None of the Mavericks had ever remembered seeing as monstrous an opponent as the relatively short brunette in the blue armor that day. She became a whirling dervish of fists and feet, using all the martial skills she possessed, but even a unit Commander couldn't handle all these opponents at once. Damia felt a fist crack against her right temple. Seeing stars, she staggered somewhat and fell victim to a powerful blow to her chin that snapped her head back and sent her flying back into the wall. Before she knew it she was pinned, held down by a number of strong Mavericks while others attacked her from the front, beating her face, chest, stomach and anything else that was accessible. Not once did she stop squirming, straining or snarling at her attackers. Her rage was her only companion, but even that began to abandon her in time.

            The Mavericks were taking turns, she realized glumly. Apparently she'd murdered a few of their buddies back there. The beating was more of a dull ache to her than a sharp pain, and she could deal with that for now. _Come on_, she mocked them. It was all she could do. _That's all you got, she mentally asked of a particularly muscular Maverick who'd just delivered a crushing blow to her midsection. __This little girl herself hits harder than you, she thought as she snarled at him, hoping it hadn't come out as a whimper. __Let me at you…let me at you all, you bastards…!_

            This would have gone on indefinitely, and despite Damia's sneers she was really in a state of living hell. However everything stopped suddenly when a crackling old voice asked, "What's all the hullabaloo about?"

            The voice was not particularly loud, but all the Mavericks stopped their frenzied assault and stepped back. The owner of the voice was a short, hunchbacked Maverick with a large eyepiece over one eye and a tattered red lab coat. He approached the scene, running his hand through his mangy silver beard in a show of curiosity. Damia immediately felt a chill run down her spine when she beheld him, but she used the last of her strength to subdue it. No way was she going to show fear in front of these bastards.

            "She killed Lawrence and Graybolt, Doc Volvar," the muscular Maverick explained. "And Harmony," chimed another, and cries of other names rose throughout the crowd of angry Mavericks. "We're gonna make the bitch pay!" the muscular one finished, cracking his knuckles. "That's all, Doc Volvar. Honest."

            Doc Volvar narrowed his dull, murky gray eyes at Damia, and again she felt that chill shoot through her. It was clear to her that the Mavericks held this Volvar fellow in extremely high regard, but how much of that reverence came from fear she did not want to know. The sadistic Maverick doctor let a smile crack his wizened face and showed slightly yellowed teeth. "Commander Damia!" he acknowledged her, and all the Mavericks shrunk back a bit. They'd been beating the shit out of a _Commander? Wow! "I am Volvar, the chief surgeon for these fine fellows. I'm delighted to finally meet someone of your caliber."_

            "Go fuck yourself," was Damia's irreverent response. It earned her a sharp slap across the face from a nearby Maverick, followed by a hard jab to her kidneys from one of the Mavericks holding her.

            "Bitch!" one of them shouted. "You don't say that to the Doc!"

            "Easy, easy!" Volvar sounded far too amiable for Damia's liking. "We're all Reploids, here. We can settle things in an orderly manner."

            "The hell we can." The voice was new, and it was a huge voice that rang in everyone's ears. The massive, grotesque Geddon stomped up next to Volvar, fixing Damia with a poisonous glare. "This one murdered my pals at the radar base."

            "She's a Commander," Doc Volvar reminded him reasonably. "She knows things." He turned to the crowds. "Normally I'd leave you all to your own merry little desires. But really…" He shook his head in mock disgust. "Where are your _MANNERS? This is a Commander, for Sigma's sake! It's just not proper to be so rude to a Commander. Plus, you should all be ashamed of yourselves…beating up a pretty lady like this. Where is your sense of __decency?"_

            To a one, all the Mavericks chuckled. There was a secret and very, very dark inside joke here. The Mavericks holding Damia gave her rough and rude insinuating squeezes and prods, and while at first she thought they were just being pigs she began to suspect that they hinting at more than sexual harassment. The chill returned, only much worse. Volvar was approaching her with a strange smile, and he had drawn a pistol of some sort. The Mavericks held her tight and she heard one of them curse her name. She quite suddenly renewed her struggle in full as Volvar got too close for comfort, but the Mavericks behind her slammed her hard into the wall behind them, winding her long enough for Volvar to shoot her with something that seemed to drain all her energy and willpower straight away.

            _A stun blaster! She realized it with no small amount of horror. It was like what Vile had used in the earlier wars. She was paralyzed…she could not move. Doc Volvar, that same twisted smile on his face, came closer to the unnerved Huntress and roughly seized her by the arm. He stabbed a syringe through her bodysuit and into a vein, and she felt herself go numb. Her CPU slowly returned to inactivity as the tranquilizer took over, but in one last act of defiance Commander Damia spat in Doc Volvar's left eye._

            The Maverick doctor blinked and wiped the substance off his face, frowning but not showing his true irritation. He stood in consternation for a second, but held up a hand to stop his loyal comrades from harming Damia for her rudeness. She slipped into unconsciousness and a strangely warm and fatherly look spread out on Doc Volvar's face. "The brave, strong Commander Damia…and in nearly perfect condition!" He took her face in his hand, examining it. It was a bit bruised, but still attractive. He smiled out of anything but lust and a fit of wicked laughter shook his shoulders. "Oh, you poor girl!" he finally said aloud, looking into her slumbering eyes. "The way you die will make even the Furies weep!"

            When the Hunters were first meeting the Mavericks at Point Alpha, while Storm Eagle was fighting the Skiver, and while the tide of the war still hung in the balance, Gredam of Terrornova led his small unit towards Grand Commander Signas and the rest of the Hunter refugees.

            This, Gredam thought as he examined the upcoming battlefield, was the perfect revenge. Not only was he cutting the head off the wicked Hunter serpent, he was doing so by eliminating their most important leader next to Cain himself. Gredam didn't especially harbor any ill will for Cain. He'd made possible Gredam's existence, after all, and he could hardly hate the man for anything after that. But Cain was on the wrong side, and that was that. If he were found, well…Gredam knew what would have to be done.

            The Maverick in the camouflaged armor with the grenade launcher/assault rifle and the missile launchers under his bulky shoulder epaulets looked to where he knew Signas and the others were hiding. It was a cluster of debris under a highway road…and there was Signas himself, standing there defiantly with two others Gredam recognized. The shorter one was Caligula, the Hunter intelligence chief. The bulky green one was Douglas, the leader of their weapons development. All three were armed and set in firm defiance, even though there was just that—three of them. Was this it? Was this all the refugees that there were? Perhaps…yes, there had to be noncombatants hiding somewhere. That unnerved Gredam. He hated eliminating noncombatants…perhaps he'd just take them hostage. So long as he kept an eye on that Kuwangner prick he was pretty sure nothing wicked would happen to the captured ones.

            But these three…no, they had to go, if they would not disarm. But to overwhelm them like this seemed hardly fair. Gredam stopped and let his voice bellow out to meet them. "Throw down your weapons, Hunters! The time for battle has ended!"

            "So that you can slaughter us like cattle rather than like soldiers?" Signas retorted in a voice just as powerful as Gredam's. "The Maverick Hunters will not be used as bargaining chips!" He spat the last words.

            "You will not survive this fight," Gredam said next, though his hopes for a peaceful resolution had already been dashed. "Surrender now and you have a chance. If you fight you have no chance at all!"

            "There's _always a chance!" Signas declared, raising his pistol to the sky. "Burn in hell, Mavericks! You may send us there too in the end, but you can rest assured some of you will be there with us!"_

            His voice visibly struck fear into the hearts of Gredam's soldiers, even though they outnumbered Signas in an incredible way. Remarkable, Gredam thought. Here was a true leader. He did everything Gredam would have done. He did not surrender. He did not accept a defeat when he believed he could still accomplish something. Up till now Gredam hadn't known him, but already he respected him. He was also glad that Signas had no battalions under his control at the moment…no doubt he could energize them in a way that would spell huge trouble for the Mavericks.

            "Then fight well, Hunters!" Gredam shouted, raising his own weapon to the sky. Both commanders fired one shot together, and then the Mavericks rushed past Gredam to invade the pit. Gredam caught up, but didn't fire a shot. Signas and the other two had no such reservations, however, and felled two of Gredam's men before they scattered. The Mavericks invaded Signas's sanctuary, and then something ingenious took place.

            On the highway above the bastion of debris, Alia and Xu detonated the explosives they'd spent the last few minutes planting. The small section of road fell onto the Mavericks below, crushing many of them. Gredam and three fourths of his unit got away, but his forces were thinned further when Signas, joined now by the "noncombatants" Gredam had expected earlier, attacked from the sides.

            It was incredible. The battle had just started and already Gredam's forces had been significantly dwindled. He hadn't given Signas enough credit, he reprimanded himself. But even with their sudden gains, the Hunters still could never hold out. Xu ran among the Mavericks, goring them with her katana. Alia sniped from her position further down the ruined highway. Douglas, Signas and Caligula fought as valiantly as they could while the technicians who'd been forced to fight did as well as they were able. There were just too many Mavericks, however, and in time the Hunters started dwindling. Douglas fell howling in pain with a wound in his leg. Most of the technicians were picked off. Gredam felt victory approaching.

            Then, all of a sudden, victory was snatched away when Gredam found himself surrounded by humans.

            They all had Megacity Army standard issue weapons, which weren't exactly weak, and all of them wore the uniforms of the Dragoon squad. Gredam drew a sharp breath and without even thinking blew three of them away with a grenade. This prompted the others to attack, but Gredam mowed them down without any form of sympathy whatsoever. He was also profoundly nervous. _Dragoons…but that also means…_

            "It has been a long time, Private Gredam!"

            Gredam turned in what seemed like very slow motion to behold the physical embodiment of everything he hated in the world. It took the form of a tall, averagely built Reploid in sharp, pointy black armor carrying a spiky, monstrous black beam saber. He was a living, breathing contradiction: he was a Reploid, yet he oppressed his own species; he was legally with the Hunters, but truthfully hated humans; the only spot of blue on him was his sapphire helmet gem, but yet his name was Chartreuse. The man Gredam called the Traitor was once again before him, and this time the day was theirs alone.

            "Nothing to say?" Chartreuse asked, a thin smile forming on his lips. Gredam's blood ran red with rage and hate…and at the same time it ran cold. He remembered that smile. It was the sick, twisted grin Chartreuse always wore when he was about to kill someone…the man took more pleasure in murder than anyone Gredam had ever known.

            "I don't make it a point to converse with dogs," Gredam said acidly, leveling his rifle at Chartreuse and firing a grenade at the Army officer's feet. Chartreuse cart wheeled backwards as soon as he saw the gun level in his direction, and was hit only by a few pieces of shrapnel, something he shrugged off easily.

            "Me oh my," the Traitor chuckled, fixing Gredam with an impressed smile. "I do believe you've grown some balls since our last meeting!"

            "Grow your own, then, and fight me!" Gredam sent a three round burst at Chartreuse, which the nimble Reploid dodged, still snickering like a damned idiot. "Stand still and die, damn you!"

            "Oh, I see." Chartreuse's arm formed into a cannon. "You've grown balls, but not brains. That's all right. Makes things easier for me, you know." Without another word he rocketed himself through the air, sending his rapid-fire high power plasma barrage down towards Gredam. The Terrornova assassin remembered the attack's nature too late, and though his dodge spared him the full damage his systems complained about armor damage. Great.

            Gredam let out a roar and targeted Chartreuse as he sailed through the air. His shoulder epaulets opened and he let loose a storm of small missiles that locked onto their target. Chartreuse, however, just ran right at Gredam, his sword poised to strike. Suddenly unsure what to do and completely horrified because of it, Gredam raised his gun and shot at Chartreuse, who rocketed to the side with a cackle to dodge both the shots and the explosions…well, almost. The explosions knocked both combatants back.

            It was as though the other soldiers were politely allowing Gredam and Chartreuse to settle things. No Dragoons or Hunter took a shot at the Maverick, and no Mavericks took a shot at the Traitor. Chartreuse looked at Gredam like an appraiser would a rare gem and then finally threw back his head and laughed. "Excellent! You're just as fun an opponent as you were the last time! A shame you don't have your little lady friend to shock the hell out me this time, though," he pointed out, referring to their last battle, which had ended when he killed Teytha but still suffered the full brunt of her last minute and nearly fatal surprise lightning blast.

            Gredam snarled and rushed Chartreuse, who leapt out of the way and, rather than using his sword, just kicked Gredam hard in the side. The Maverick grunted and turned to face Chartreuse in frustration. "Damn you, Traitor! Fight!"

            "Traitor…you're still using that one?" Chartreuse laughed again and shook his head. "Well, perhaps. I have many names, after all." He leaned his head forward conspiratorially. "Would you like to know another one?"

            There was something so…_incredibly sinister about the way he said that that put Gredam instantly on guard. "All I need to name you are four letter words," the Maverick said, fixing his archrival with a hateful stare. "You don't deserve a name other than that anyway."_

            "Such harsh words," Chartreuse said, forcing pain on his face. "Some thanks, after all I've done for you."

            "What?!" Now it was Gredam's turn to laugh. "All you've done for us? You're the scourge of our existence! Get over yourself!"

            "The scourge," Chartreuse agreed. "And the savior!" He laughed and his dash thrusters flared up. He shot towards Gredam, his sword poised to kill. "But what Chartreuse giveth, Chartreuse taketh away!"

            Gredam simply raised his rifle and shot Chartreuse in the chest. The opponent grunted in shock but somehow kept going. He slashed his sword across Gredam's chest and knocked him back, following through by flinging out his arm. From his fingertips there sprang a huge cloud of black flames that engulfed Gredam and dropped him screaming to the ground as it ate away at him like acid.

            "Gotta love the Darkfire!" Chartreuse laughed merrily. "Eats right through flesh and steel, it does! Your buddy Malevex uses it too, if I'm not mistaken." He touched his chin in thought. "I wonder if we're cousins or something? Wouldn't that be a trip!"

            Gredam let out a roar of rage and staggered back to his feet. It was all to no avail, he knew. There was nothing he could do to defend himself now, and Chartreuse would cut him down just like he'd done Teytha, Saybir, Grate, Redmond and all the others.

            But the attack never came. Chartreuse just kept surveying Gredam, that unholy fire dancing harmlessly around his dark, satanic body while his sinister eyes bored holes into his wounded opponent. His own chest armor was reinforced with advanced adaman plating—something Kitao had provided before his untimely demise. Therefore he had survived Gredam's attack, but he was still a bit unnerved. It was great, though—finally he had a _real _opponent, and finally he could spit out what he'd been dying to spit out to _somebody_…and why not, since Gredam would soon die anyway?

            "What are you gawking at?!" Gredam fairly shrieked in rage.

            "Temper, temper…" the seductively wicked voice reprimanded him. "I swear, is this the thanks I get for my good deeds? For my selfless service to those who I once so deeply wronged?"

            "What…are you blathering about?" Gredam asked, the strange apprehension seizing him again. Whatever this was, it was absolutely huge. But what was it?

            "Well you see," Chartreuse said in conversational response, "I felt really bad about killing you all and hunting you like dogs, so I decided to put your group back together. Wasn't that nice of me?"

            Gredam just blinked at him. "Now you really are whacked out." He advanced to silence the madman.

            "Can you prove me wrong?" Chartreuse said evilly, and Gredam froze in his tracks. "Tell me Gredam, what happened to you after you escaped me? You wandered around like a bum, correct? And then what happened?"

            "I found work," Gredam glared. "You must already know my employer, since you know so much as it is. And then I met up with Malevex."

            "Working for the same employer, wasn't he?" Chartreuse nodded with lips pursed in condescending contemplation. "And then a while later, you're all kindly directed to the corpse of your dear friend Teytha, by that same employer. …I mean, come on," he said, his pretense cracking into a grin. "Didn't you think it was just a _little _convenient that Teytha was sitting there in _that junkyard on _that _night?"_

            Gredam's throat suddenly got very dry. His limbs went slightly weak, and he stepped back in shock. "What…what are you saying?" he asked in a hoarse voice, even though deep down he already knew.

            Chartreuse straightened and stabbed his flaming black sword into the ground, looking for all the world like the Gatekeeper of Hell. His dark eyes were full of satisfaction and mocking superiority. He was, always had been, and forever would be the Eternal Puppetmaster of Terrornova. He was also a respected and reputable Megacity Army officer...and also behind all the scenes, he was the source of corruption and evil in Megacity 5, on a different level than Sigma, but every bit as malicious. And now it was his time to really shine. "Do you think this little terrorist incident is your own doing, Gredam?" He loved that line. He'd heard it in a video game.

            "Stop with the riddles, damn you!" Gredam snarled, though he clearly was not in a mental state to attack.

            "Fine," Chartreuse sighed. "I'll be dull about it. For the longest time I've wanted to eliminate that idiot Kitao and the annoying Maverick Hunters." He grinned at Gredam's reaction. "Don't count me with you foolish Mavericks. I work for my own purposes. Kitao was convenient for a while, but in the end he was a link I needed severed so I could pursue my…other ventures. And the Hunters kept getting in the way of these ventures! They're a counter terrorist squad, not a police force! But they try so hard to be both. It's annoying. It really is," he punctuated with an emphatic shake of his head.

            "Get to the point," Gredam growled. "Where do we come in?"

            "You can't figure it out?" Chartreuse threw him a look of pity that infuriated the Maverick. "Fine. I'll tell you. I couldn't just ruin the Hunters and the Army myself…I needed another force to do it. Now, given my rather illustrious position as Colonel Kitao's personal assistant, I was privy to all sorts of information and special access. Well I quickly got bored and started abusing my privileges, and what should I stumble upon but information revealing that right here in the junkyards of Megacity 5 are buried the SCBM nuclear missiles…the 'Buzzbombs'! Can you imagine my excitement? Nukes, man, nukes! Now all I needed was the right puppet army to give the nukes to. The answer? The Mavericks! Who else?

            "I knew the Maverick army would jump at the chance to screw the Hunters and the humans, but I could never count on Sigma to do rational things. Plus he didn't know me, and wouldn't have trusted me. I needed intermediaries to do the dirty work for me while I manipulated them from afar. Well, thanks to my 'other ventures'…" He grinned maliciously. "Who should I find but my old friend Malevex, who came right up and asked me for work?"

            "You bastard!" Gredam shouted, raising his weapon and firing at Chartreuse. The Maverick just raised his sword in one quick motion and deflected the shots, the last ones in Gredam's cartridge. "It was you all along," Gredam declared, his voice boiling with hate over his deception. "You're in charge of all the crime in the city…you're the one with the black market networks…" All the weight of the revelation crashed on him at once, and the realization nearly killed him. "By God…you're HIM!"

            "I told you I have a lot of names," agreed Kou Cao, the Gold Serpent in a quiet voice. "If only you'd known them earlier, huh?"

            "You son of a BITCH!" Gredam raged, racing at Chartreuse. The Serpent just clicked his tongue in annoyance, dodged to the right, snapped his foot up and kicked Gredam upside the head. The Maverick fell to the ground, stunned, and Chartreuse circled him, his every word a poisonous lance in Gredam's heart.

            "Is it hard to accept?" The Serpent asked, his venom unbearable. "Rather ironic, isn't it? You ran from me all your lives, but in the end you came right back to me of your own free will." He laughed again, and his laugh was full of even more scathing, wicked glee than ever before. "Once my pal Guyver informed me that Malevex and his spy network was working with me out of their own free will, I did a search of my 'employees' just out of curiosity. Sure enough, there you were, alone in the world and looking for work. I set you up to work with Malevex and his group. I'm sure the reunion must have been so _very touching." Chartreuse couldn't stop another grin from twisting his features._

            "Normally you destroyed your comrades' bodies after they died so I couldn't revive them," the Gold Serpent went on. "But for some reason you left Teytha intact, and what a pleasant surprise it was to find her in that warehouse in the Sherman District when my Dragoons flushed you out of hiding and scattered you, Malevex and Mortar. Something told me to keep her body, and so I did. When I realized I had two of you back together again, the best idea in the world struck me—I planted her corpse in the nearby junkyard and sent you two on a mission there where you'd be sure to find her. Her body was missing the control chip when I found it, so I figured one of you had it. I gambled correctly, it seems." He chuckled again, stepping away from the seething Maverick he'd used as a puppet for years. "The Terrornova squadron lived again."

            "You bastard," Gredam spat, getting to his feet.

            "Now all I needed to do was get you involved with the Mavericks," Chartreuse continued, ignoring Gredam. "That was easy. Your hatred of humans and desire for vengeance consumed all three of you. Soon enough you were puckering up to Sigma's behind, and I knew he would pay attention to a proposal from you to use the Buzzbombs. And so it began. You stole the Buzzbombs, built _Gallagher, and destroyed Kitao. The Hunters yet live, but their organization is shattered. That was always the point—not to destroy them, but to weaken their power. Now the time is right for the Gold Serpent to tighten his grip on Megacity 5…don't you think?" Kou Cao asked with a sweet smile. "And hey! You even got to see Mortar again! I didn't know about him at all. Imagine the odds, eh? So what are you so mad about? You got to see your friends again before dying. You even got a taste of freedom." His voice dropped to a scathing, vile hiss. "After all, you simple minded _twit_…a taste is all you ever deserved!"_

            "Go to hell!" Gredam ordered, turning his rage to new strength.

            "You'll be there with me," Chartreuse pointed out. "You not only killed all these people today, but you also killed Malevex, Teytha and Mortar." At Gredam's shock the Serpent grinned and went on. "Mega Man X is still inside Seraph Castle. He's going to free Zero and kill all the Maverick chieftains…including your dear old friends." Gredam was aghast, and Chartreuse nearly screamed with laughter. "They followed _you_, you stupid old fool! _You are the leader. _You _are the one who pushed vengeance more than anyone. Your loyal buddies stood by you, just as I knew they would! And now because of your simple mindedness…your __willingness to be controlled…" His voice dropped off into a heartless whisper. "Only the Gateway to Eternity awaits you now."_

            Gold Serpent Chartreuse slammed his sword into the ground again. From it sprung twin snakes of Darkfire that crept along the ground, forming a theatrical circle of flames around both opponents. The demon tore his blade from the earth, the energy saber burning with tendrils of black fire, and pointed it at Gredam. "And now, Maverick, I shall open that Gateway for you!"

            But Gredam was not the Reploid Chartreuse remembered. Nor was he anymore the Reploid Chartreuse had just sparred with. Chartreuse had denied him of freedom since the earliest times of his life…even now he was still chained to the sinister Serpent when he'd thought he'd been acting on his own. But no longer. The chains of fate were his to break…and he'd break them now. And the Gateway of Eternity Chartreuse spoke of would open for the Serpent himself.

            Gredam's shoulder armor slid back but he did not fire his remaining missiles. Instead he raced towards Chartreuse with feral rage, channeling every bit of anger into sheer explosive power. Chartreuse snarled and met him head on, his body a burning black comet. Gredam surprised Chartreuse by slamming his weapon up into his saber as it came down, destroying the firearm but driving Chartreuse back and completely off guard. Gredam continued forward with a powerful elbow rush, sending Chartreuse flying. The Serpent rebounded awkwardly off the ground only to be met with a murderously hard punch in his abdomen. Chartreuse cried out, but before Gredam could do anything else there was a bright flash of black energies and the abominable Reploid was suddenly gone.

            He reappeared in the same flash of energies right behind Gredam, and the Terrornova assassin spun around just in time to receive a burning saber gash deep across his chest. Flames exploded from the tip of the blade and spread throughout Gredam's insides, sending the Maverick reeling with a shriek of pain. Chartreuse laughed aloud in sweet victory, and then closed the distance to drive his weapon through Gredam's chest.

            That was when Gredam fired his missiles.

            There were only four left, but all of them exploded into or around Chartreuse. The Gold Serpent flew through the air with a yelp of surprise and landed in a smoking heap, his fire briefly extinguished. It soon burned even brighter than ever as the crime lord stood again, his armor melted and mangled and yet his eyes burning with remarkable malice. Chartreuse exploded into black energy again, and Gredam immediately turned to face the next flash of light. But Chartreuse warped again, and again, and again until Gredam could no longer keep track. Then he felt a searing line of pain trace its way down his back. He roared in pain and anger, throwing himself forward to prevent the blade from pushing into him any further. He rolled on the ground and rose halfway to his feet before doubling over in pain.

            Chartreuse vanished in a black flash again, and when he reappeared he was falling from the sky towards the prone Maverick, his sword held downward for the fatal skewer. It had taken him a long time, but finally he would eliminate the final remnants of the Terrornova program. They'd been so useful, these simple minded Reploids. When one only desires simple freedom, it is so easy to manipulate their mind, Chartreuse thought as he often did. It was almost a shame that they wouldn't get the chance to be anything more, but, he mused, they were already the most significant nuclear terrorists in recent history. What more could they want? Whereas he, Chartreuse, would be forever unknown, but that was the whole point. He would rule through his puppet politicians and officers. No one said no to the Gold Serpent, after all…not if they wanted to live. And sometimes, he thought as his sword fell towards Gredam's head, even those who said yes to the Serpent perished because of it. But that was life.

            Then his mind went from satisfaction to maddening rage as Gredam shot suddenly up to his feet and kept his fist going on an upward path, delivering a monstrous uppercut that caught Chartreuse right in the chin, snapping his head back and dealing serious whiplash damage. The Gold Serpent choked in shock as he sailed backwards through the air and landed on a slab of debris, his already aching skull rattling around inside his helmet. Gredam, a few feet away, collapsed again to his knees and recovered much needed strength.

            For a while both combatants sat there. Chartreuse's ceremonial ring of fire died down, and Gredam became aware of the rest of the battleground. He was very surprised to see that while most of the Dragoons were dead the Mavericks were pulling back in great alarm. He realized why when in the distance he spied an entire Hunter force moving in. _Impossible! His mind went wild. _The Hunters have already breached Frontline? But…but how?__

            Chartreuse saw it too, and spat a glob of blood from his lips as he got shakily to his feet. His head felt like it might just roll off his shoulders, and since he knew Gredam might well make it do just that it might be a good idea to end this fight now. It was over anyway, he reflected, gazing at Zion and Jasper as they approached from the distance.

            Gredam stood at the same time the Gold Serpent did. The dark devil still managed a cocky smile even in his apparent defeat. "You've grown strong, Gredam." He broke into that maddening laughter of his. "I'd expect nothing less from one of my minions."

            "I'm no minion of yours," Gredam growled, approaching the Megacity Army officer with murder in his eyes.

            "So you say," Chartreuse said, narrowing his eyes at the approaching Maverick. "But I brought you back into this world…and I'll take you out of it in the end. I swear to you, you insolent bastard, that you and your friends will _never secure the peace you seek!" He spat again, as though making it an official oath. "I will hunt every one of you across the globe until you are all _dead_! And I'll make you watch, too! Just like the good old days!" Chartreuse laughed harder as the look on Gredam's face grew darker. "What? Do you think you can stop me? First you have to stop X and Zero! They're murdering your friends as we speak! And before __that you have to run from the Hunters __here! It seems, my old friend, that you have a little too much on your plate."_

            Gredam just stood like a statue for the next few seconds. "No. It's not full at all. It ends here, Chartreuse." He started towards the officer again. "You won't curse us with your existence any longer."

            "It's futile," Chartreuse protested, backing up. "The Gateway opens for everyone eventually. Even if you destroy me you will never have your peace. The Hunters will do my work for me." He glared. "I've already destroyed you! Don't you get it? There is no _way _you'll be pardoned for this…they'll hunt you all across the world!"

            "Then let it be them," Gredam said in the same dark tone. "I'll deal with them. I'm sick of dealing with you."

            Chartreuse leapt over Gredam's head, swinging and missing with his sword. Gredam just turned and advanced towards Kou Cao once more, his eyes clearly conveying that his one and only intention was to cut the head off this snake once and for all.

            Chartreuse, however, had other ideas. "I'd fight you," he said, his eyes full of mischief. "I really would. But I don't know…it just seems…" He began to glow with the black energies again. "It seems so much…_crueler this way." Alarmed, Gredam rushed him with his arms out to strangle the bastard, but he was too late. Chartreuse vanished in a cloud of energy and did not reappear again. Gredam stumbled through the space where his archenemy had been and immediately let out a grand roar of rage when he realized that he had failed. The Traitor still lived…and now they were all marked for death once more._

            The first thing he did, when he regained his sense of self, was to run. The Hunters were coming in full force and he was the last of his squad to retreat. He ran as fast as he was able, crossing the distance to the Hunter HQ rather quickly. On the way Gravity Beetle contacted him to inform him that Frontline had indeed fallen.

            "We're regrouping back at the Hunter base," he explained. "From there we can begin the evacuation of our forces back to Seraph Castle. If we use the Hunter teleporters, we should be able to get most of our troops to safety. It's better than leaving them out in the city to be slaughtered."

            "Yeah," Gredam forced himself to speak. "I doubt your brother is happy. I imagine he'd want to fight to the death or some such crap."

            "Boomer's mind…is on something else." Gravity sounded ominous. "He and that Volvar fellow seemed to have some activity planned." His voice grew frustrated. "Hell, I don't have time to baby-sit that asshole! I've got troops to manage!"

            "Don't worry about him," Gredam said, disgusted with Kuwangner and Volvar. "Let 'em mess around. They'll regret it when the Hunters get back." He sighed. The Hunters would be back…very soon. How in the world were they going to hold out long enough to—but of _course!_ "Gravity! What about Marauder?"

            Gravity probably had an expression like he'd been hit in the face with a brick. "Yeah! The Marauder! Our 'Weapon'! That monster will keep the Hunters busy for sure!"

            "I'm going home, then," Gredam decided. "I'll be back in no time…with the last trump card we've got left."

            "Hurry back," Gravity cautioned. "I don't know if Geddon and I can manage everything alone."

            Gredam assured him that would not be the case and activated his teleporter, returning to Seraph Castle. He needed to return anyway, he knew. If Chartreuse had been telling the truth then Malevex and the others were in serious danger. He'd warn them ahead of time to escape…they had no responsibility to stay. Chartreuse had been right, after all—they'd followed him. Now it was up to him to protect them…he was their leader, after all, and he would _not _fail them again. Even if it meant his life.

            Chartreuse's Gateway to Eternity would not open today, he promised the world. Not if he had anything to say about it.


	44. Valhalla Rising

**Chapter 43: Valhalla Rising**

            Malevex hadn't given up hope quite yet, but he was toeing the line enough that Arson, the fiery Reploid manning the control center with him, was getting nervous. All the trouble had started when the presence that appeared in Teytha's arena turned out to be Zero rather than Mega Man X. Then Teytha hadn't warped out as planned, and her life signals had come to an abrupt end. Malevex had tried to raise her on the communicator many times, but he'd met with nothing but static. Next came the alert that X had destroyed Cyber Peacock and was advancing towards Mortar's chamber. Finally, Diavus wasn't responding from the lower levels. Everything was falling apart around Arson's commander, and the young Maverick was growing wary of the situation. He'd seen Reploids snap before—his brother, after a series of events implemented by humans, the very reason, in fact, that Arson had joined the Mavericks—and he didn't think Malevex had much more time before his mind went downhill.

            It was at this moment when someone finally came on the communicator, cutting through the thick silence with a voice that wasn't Teytha's or Mortar's, but one that Arson hadn't heard in what seemed like forever: Commander Gredam's.

            "Gredam to Seraph," the voice was saying, with an edge of panic. "Gredam to Seraph, come in. Is anyone there?"

            Arson looked to Malevex, but the ebon Maverick had merely turned his head to the sound of the voice and offered no reply. After listening to Gredam repeat his plea for attention a few more times Arson finally took action and approached the console. "Seraph to Gredam, we hear you."

            "Who…who is that?"

            "I am Arson, sir. I'm helping manage the command center in Sigma's absence."

            "Absence? Where'd he go?!"

            "Nowhere!" Arson quickly responded, his head spinning. He wasn't prepared for this. "He went downstairs, that's all. He's dealing with X and Zero."

            "Zero? Wasn't he—"

            "He escaped," Malevex finally cut in, with a very flat voice.

            "Malevex?" Gredam asked in some relief. "Is that…?"

            "I'm here, Gredam." Malevex approached the console.

            "Oh, shit," Gredam recognized his friend's tone of voice instantly. "What happened?"

            "She's dead, Gredam."

            At the other end, Gredam visibly recoiled. Even the sounds of battle outside died in his ears. "You…you can't be serious…"

            "You think I'd joke about it?!" Malevex snapped. "A fine punch line! Funny as hell, isn't it?" He caught himself. "Sorry…"

            "…You're sure?" Gredam asked after a very awkward and terrible silence.

            "I can't reach her," Malevex responded, trying to keep his voice under control. It was the first time he'd acknowledged it out loud. "Her signal is gone…that bastard Zero must have…" He slammed his fist on the console. "Damn him!"

            "And Mortar?" Gredam pressed. "What about him?"

            "I can't reach him either." Malevex spun away from the console, pacing back and forth in an attempt to control his conflicting emotions of rage and despair. "X must be doing the job as we speak."

            "God damn you, you bastard…" came the whispered reply. "You arranged it all…and it _worked._" It was the most sorrowful words to ever leave the field commander's lips.

            Malevex noticed the sentiment and returned to the console, as alarmed as his numbed emotions would allow. "What are you talking about?"

            "I have to talk to you," Gredam said, his voice now frantic with haste. "In person. Now."

            "You mean—"

            "I'm coming back. We're being decimated out here…we need the Marauder."

            "And what about Seraph Castle?"

            "We'll escape. Evacuation is the only goal now…we need Marauder to buy time. Meet me at the garage on the second ring. Try to reach them, Malevex…there may still be a way."

            "We can't leave the bodies," Malevex agreed. "We can't do that to them, can we? It's just like before."

            "You have no idea," the harried Gredam replied, again to Malevex's mystification. "I'll see you soon. Please hang together that long."

            The Terrornova assassins had been discussing, in all plainness, desertion, both of them forgetting that there was another presence in the room. Arson couldn't believe his ears. Only Sigma could give the order to scatter. How could The Team be doing this? The most loyal of Mavericks were now going to…leave them all out to dry? After all they'd done together, they would abandon their comrades to X's wrath?

            Malevex turned slowly to Arson, whose fury was visibly building. "Get out while you can. He'll be here, soon."

            "You can't do this." The words were out of Arson's mouth before he even realized that he was saying them.

            Malevex stopped dead in his tracks and fixed Arson with a very curious stare. "And just why can't I?"

            "You put this unit together," Arson said forcefully. "You and your comrades…you knew you might die, you knew it from the beginning! Now it's happening. Big deal. It's a risk you took! If it weren't for you and your plan, we wouldn't be here…Sigma would not have been able to launch this offensive! And now you're just going to run off because things aren't going your way? You're going to leave all the soldiers you recruited to die?"

            Malevex continued to stare at Arson for a few unsettling seconds. The younger Maverick began to feel a slight chill run down his spine when he saw the look in Malevex's eyes gradually begin to change. His superior began to twitch with silent laughter that soon received a voice, its owner's dark frame tilting back and dispensing the loudest, creepiest string of laughter Arson had ever heard. "That _we _recruited? You're way off, Arson. Way off. You came here of your own accord…_Sigma _recruited you. We merely trained you." Malevex took a few steps towards his belligerent underling, who took a few steps of his own away from his unstable commander. "And now, Arson, you will _stand down_."

            "I will NOT!" The Maverick pointed his arm cannon at Malevex's chest, again scarcely aware of his actions until after the fact. "You'll leave us all to die!"

            "You're young," Malevex responded with a dismissive wave, still approaching Arson, who was guarding the door. "You don't understand how it works. Sigma launches an uprising, gets his ass kicked and scatters all his forces. Who runs, lives. Every Maverick knows that."

            "You're wrong," Arson declared, charging his cannon. "That's why we keep losing…because no one here has any goddamned _balls! _Sigma gives the orders around here, not you!"

            Malevex considered Arson for a while longer, surveying him with eyes of green and blue, each of which contained a light that put Arson on guard. He'd seen it before…it was the light of madness, the light that shone from the eyes of Reploids who had become fully errant…

            It was the light of a true, original "maverick".

            "I'll stop you!" Arson declared once he realized what was going on, unleashing a spray of devastating fire energies that crashed into Malevex, shrouding him in a cloak of flames. Arson continued the storm, roaring with determination but stopping when he realized that his victim was laughing again.

            "Please!" Malevex said in between fits, clutching his side. "Enough! I can't breathe!" And then Arson watched with horror as the bright red flames that bathed Malevex slowly mixed with other fire of a darker color, until the ebon Maverick was fully enclosed in a swirling mass of black pyrotechnics.

            "Jesus!" Arson exclaimed, backing into the door. Malevex stayed riveted in place, still chuckling to himself and looking Arson dead in the eye, the mad glint in his optics more prominent than ever.

            "You're just young and idealistic enough that you might make something of yourself," the former assassin declared as the flames around him began to spread. "One day, you'll thank me for this." Arson had no time to react before the curtain of flames exploded outward, slamming him back against the closed door.

            Shortly afterwards, all the lights in the third ring went out.

            The halls of Seraph Castle were getting darker, Mega Man X noted as he stole his way through the cold steel corridors in pursuit of his Maverick prey. It was as though a certain mood of despair was settling throughout the building, but X could not tell and wasn't sure he wanted to know if the despairing party was the Hunter force or the Maverick force. It had to be some illusion, he told himself, but the lights got dimmer and dimmer, and in the distance X could see them nearly going out. He was running into the darkness of the first ring, and still wasn't entirely sure what awaited him.

            Maverick defenses leapt from every shadow. He encountered less tanks now and saw more of the floating eyeball lasers, the sort he'd first seen used in the Repliforce War. They posed absolutely no threat to him, and he used them mainly as target practice while he sped down the halls towards the guardian chamber. If Ares had spoken true, Mortar would be inside that chamber. X went over feasible situations in his mind. He didn't know what exactly the old Reploid could do, but he had a hard time imagining the man—who he'd never actually seen, and only knew about from Zero's descriptions—as a stellar soldier. Of course, X reminded himself, Mortar _had _been in Terrornova, and no doubt he'd picked up a few tricks along the way.

            Whatever the situation, X knew it was his job to shut Mortar down. Regardless of his past, the Maverick was a nuclear terrorist, and deserved only the severest of punishments. He just hoped there really weren't any surprises waiting for him.

            But of course, there were surprises. X hit one head on when he raced into a corridor that was slightly wider than the others. He almost missed them coming, but the gleam of the faint light on a claw tipped him off just in time to stop himself from running himself through a long, serrated fingernail belonging to a bulky reptilian Maverick. X jumped into the air and reversed his direction by kicking his legs out in front of him and activating his thrusters, pushing himself away and burning his would-be assailant in the process. The Maverick let out a yelp that turned into a squeal as X unleashed a midair blast of plasma that struck its target dead on.

            When X landed there was no time for rest. Two more pairs of red eyes were rushing towards him, and this time he didn't have a chance to escape. Acting quickly he switched to his Double Cyclone program and unleashed a burst of wind at each charging foe, carrying them back and slamming them into the nearby walls hard…but not before their claws raked X's alabaster Fourth Armor. Glowering, X charged the Double Cyclone and sent huge green tornados horizontally towards the Mavericks. One rolled to the side, but the other was crushed again against the wall, and this time he was left in serious condition.

            The lizard that'd dodged sprang at X with remarkable agility, catching the Hunter off guard and throwing them both into a tumble across the floor. The Maverick sank his teeth into X's shoulder, invoking a cry of pain from the Hunter champion. The encouraged Maverick continued gnawing, and didn't notice X press his cannon into his scaly belly.

            A second later the enemy was lying on the floor in a bleeding, writhing heap. X got to his feet with a look of hatred and revulsion in his eyes. "Freaks," he hissed, and unleashed a charged bolt of plasma that incinerated the wounded Maverick.

            "The feeling's mutual," another reptilian hissed.

            X's head snapped front and center—it was the first Maverick, the one he'd burned and shot right at the get go. "Your opinion's cute and all, but it doesn't matter to me." His cannon charged again. "You're all the same."

            "Tell me," the Maverick asked, slowly getting to his feet. He made no move to dodge or to spring. His claws hung limply at his side. His shoulder armor was burned and torn from where X's shot had hit. "Would you say the same things to a humanoid? Would you blow them away as easily as you did my freakish friend there?" He motioned to the smoldering corpse.

            The comment caught X by surprise. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "Mavericks are Mavericks, no matter what they look like."

            "But you would not call a _humanoid_ a 'freak'," the lizard persisted, taking slow steps around X. "You would never tell a _humanoid_ that his opinion doesn't count." He laughed, a raspy, throaty sound. "You're one of those Reploids who thinks he's at one with the humans." His red eyes narrowed. "You think that because you look and act like them that you are superior to the others in your race."

            "Where are you getting this from?" It was X's turn to laugh. "I fight to stop terrorism."

            "Wrong!" the Maverick hissed. "You fight to _perpetuate _it! How long will you allow your sons to be oppressed, Father?"

            "Don't call me that," X said darkly. "The Reploids are my copies. They are not my descendants."

            "Call it what you will, Father." The Maverick chuckled. "Your son's name is Cutter, for your information." He grinned a sharp toothy grin. "Is it any harder to kill something with a name? Or maybe if I had a more human name, like James or Robert, would you maybe hesitate?"

            "Your name doesn't make a difference to me," X said flatly. "You are a Maverick and you are in my way. It is that simple." Then his eyes darkened further. "And it is never easy to kill, whether the target has a name or not."

            "You killed him easily enough," Cutter said of his dead colleague. "He was my brother."

            "I weep for you," X said coldly. "Now get out of my way, or join him."

            "What? And let you in to kill Mortar?" Cutter laughed again. "Don't be ridiculous!"

            "What is Mortar to you?" X asked. It seemed to him that killing this Reploid would somehow grant him a victory, and he wanted to avoid that. "What is he but another blind, foolish commander leading you to your death? I've seen it time and time again, and it always has the same result."

            "Because of you," Cutter seethed. "You'd kill anyone who challenges your flimsy pacifistic ideals. Hell, it's a disgrace to real pacifists that you call yourself one of them!" He spat. "You don't know what that old man has done for us—he, and his colleagues!"

            "At the expense of God knows how many innocent lives," X declared. "And for that there is only one penance."

            "I agree," Cutter said mysteriously. "Now take yours." Before X could react Cutter shot forth with his claws extended towards X's throat. X frantically fired off his charged blast, but it flew off to the side, burning Cutter but not much else. X twisted and fired off another level one shot that Cutter actually dissipated with a swipe of his claws. Then he sprang again, his serrated teeth ready to tear X apart. The more experienced Hunter resorted to a special attack—the Rising Fire. He let the Maverick approach from above and then fired off the rising splash of flames. It caught Cutter in the abdomen and burned a hole clear through him.

            Cutter landed in a smoking heap, amazed at how quickly his battle had ended. He glowered up at X, who was just staring at him. The ruthless Maverick flicked his forked tongue out at X in some strange gesture of respect. "You're…as good as they say." He cackled one last time. "Here's to the…long life of slavery, eh…Father?"

            X said nothing. He just passed up the dying Maverick, leaving him to his own end, and continued down the hall. A short distance later he found and passed through the doors leading to Mortar's chamber.

            As he walked X reflected on Cutter's accusations, despite his common sense ordering him to do otherwise. X did not see the humans as the oppressors…sure they were a little unfair, but the Reploids were a new thing. It would take time, but things would smooth over. Why didn't the Mavericks understand that? Why did they insist on war after war, accomplishing nothing but to further antagonize the humans? X could not understand that, and whenever he thought he could the Mavericks pulled something crazy like this and there went all of X's sympathy.

            When the gate slammed behind him there was a strange feeling of finality that went through X. It unnerved him, because that finality had only hit him when he was about to confront someone major, like Sigma or Vile. How could Mortar be that major of a villain? Or was it something deeper than that? X hated these little omens. They made him think way too much.

            X found himself in a very large, multi-leveled arena that wasn't much more decorated than the others had been. The place had to be three stories high, with balcony type floors above X that someone could easily be hiding on. To his greater dismay there were also things that looked like doorways up on the balconies. Did that mean this guardian could summon reinforcements?

            "Yo!" X barked, charging his imposing cannon to the maximum level. He was in no mood for beating around the bush. "Anybody home?"

            His response was a whirring sound from one of the upper doorways. X quickly leveled his cannon at the door and released the shot when it opened…but what came out caused his heart to skip a beat, because it took most of the wall with it. The Chimera ride armor certainly did not fit standard doorframes, but that never stopped them from passing through anyway.

            X's screaming wave of plasma hit the blue behemoth in the chest. The pilot, a drone Maverick, kept right on dashing, rocketing off the balcony and crashing down onto the arena below. X glowered and prepared for evasive measures, but his auditory sensors picked up something else and he braced himself for what was to come. Sure enough, two more Chimeras exploded out of high doorways and careened off the balcony, landing dangerously close to X. The combined quake would have rocked X off his feet had the Hunter not activated the hover function in his boots, keeping him about a foot off the ground. He touched down as soon as the ride armors had landed and wasted no time rushing right in the middle of the fray.

            The Chimera was a monster of a battle body. It was one big armored torso with the fists of death. One direct punch could send a Reploid in full battle dress flying clear across the room and imbed them in the far wall. X knew from experience, most of which had come from a little fellow named Vile, the same little fellow who would have killed him years ago had Zero not turned himself into Reploid confetti in order to destroy Vile's hybrid Chimera. But X had proven himself against Vile's later mech, the Goliath, and these three runts were no match for the demonic incarnation Vile had sat in during his second attempt to end X's life.

            The Chimera X had already damaged became his first target. The Hunter used his greater agility to weave in and out of the dashing ride armors' paths, luring them in and blasting as he went, focusing especially on the first Chimera's sparking torso. An idea came to him that he doubted would work, but hey, these _were _drones. X darted quite suddenly in between the first and third Chimeras and simply stood there, charging his cannon. As he'd hoped, the pilots merely locked onto their target and sent both their machines flying in X's direction. The Hunter's lips curled into a grin. "Toro." His boots flared and he sped out of the way.

            The results were so much better than he'd expected. The third chimera threw its fist with full power into the first one's torso, crushing the weakened armor and tearing into its internal structure. The first machine delivered a powerful shoulder rush that disjointed the third one's arm. That was two wounded, X thought, and now he just had to worry about—

            Almost getting killed was something that really annoyed X, and sadly it happened to him a whole helluva lot. In this case he used his mad skills to dive out of the way, sans grace, flailing his arms and legs like a fish out of water. He landed on his stomach and knocked the wind out of himself as the last Chimera sped past him, its sneak attack a failure. Quickly getting to his feet, the angered Hunter raised his cannon and fired the shot he'd been charging. The blob of plasma ate into the Chimera's upper back, toasting its rider somewhat, something X made a mental note of. He prepared himself for another attack, but a voice stopped him cold.

            "Weeeeelll, hot diggity damn! It's been fun, sonny, but it's too one sided." The voice was strong, masculine and coarse. It came from some point above X. "How about some _sentience _in this fight?"

            No sooner had X locked onto the source of the voice than a fourth Chimera fell from the sky. This Chimera had been roosting at the very top of the arena on some hidden platform, and this time X really was thrown off his feet. While the Hunter recovered from the shockwave he realized that this Chimera was quite different from the other three—it had red armor instead of blue, and the chest had been fitted with a cannon of sorts. Sitting in the cockpit was a Reploid in maroon and silver armor, his gray hair unkempt but his mild beard straight. He reminded X of Doctor Doppler, only rougher around the edges. He did not appear to have any built in weapons other than a probably arm cannon, but then he didn't exactly need them when he was sitting in a behemoth like the Chimera. The most notable thing about him was his facial expression—his lips were curled into a confident smile and his eyes radiated a smugness that X took for genuine until he realized that in fact his opponent was in fact just as nervous as he was.

            X straightened up into a battle stance and threw the Maverick chieftain a look of poison. "Mortar, I presume."

            "Whoa boy, look out!" Mortar chuckled, leaning forward and activating a protective barrier around the top of the Chimera. "We got Einstein, here!" The other three Chimeras, though damaged, slowly straightened up as Mortar began sending commands to the drone pilots from his master unit. "Havin' fun yet, Hunter X?"

            "Not as much as you are, Sergeant Smiles," X replied with a raised eyebrow, watching the other mechs getting ready to rush him. "I've got news for you, grandpa. The spiel about the great Maverick cause is lost on me tonight. Don't waste your breath."

            "I had no such intentions, my boy," Mortar responded easily, punching some buttons on his console in a perfectly casual manner. "I don't wanna mince words with you and you don't wanna mince words with me. I figure, why bother pissing each other off when we can just kill each other and get it over with?"

            X blinked, somewhat taken aback. "I like it, Mortar. Very direct and to the point."

            "Ain't it, though?" Mortar grinned with considerably less good humor. "I got my orders and you got yours. Not my idea of how to spend a nice night like this, but hey, what are you gonna do?"

            X shook his head. "We can small talk all you want, grandpa," he used the word all too mockingly. "But sooner or later we're gonna have to get to the part where you fall apart."

            "That a fact?" Mortar said scathingly, powering up his Chimera. "Well look out, cuz this _grandpa_'s about to make someone his bitch!" X barely had time to dodge the flaming plasma bolt that erupted from the Chimera's installed chest cannon. It exploded into the wall behind him, leaving a little crater. X was properly intimidated. "You all!" Mortar snapped to the drones as his Chimera started moving towards the chastised X. "Don't just stand around! _Bring that little boy DOWN!_"

            The drones didn't need any encouraging. Four Chimera mechs sped towards an overwhelmed X, who was forced to take immediate evasive action. He ran back against the nearest wall and let the Mavericks converge on him before jetting to the right, unloading plasma shots as he went. The blasts exploded fairly harmlessly into the Chimera armor, causing curtains of electricity to flare up around the mechs but not much else.

            "Gimme a break!" Mortar was laughing. "You and your little pea shooter'll never defeat me!"

            "Famous last words," X grumbled in reply, reminding himself that Mortar's show of overconfidence was more or less intended only to piss him off…and so far it was working, he admitted. The only upside was that Mortar couldn't really use his cannon now, since he'd run too much of a risk of hitting his comrades.

            At first X decided to focus his attention on the critically wounded first Chimera. It became quite obvious that a few more shots would disable the ride armor, but things were just too frantic for him to line up the proper shots. Mortar's Chimera was not only stronger than the others but faster as well, speeding with annoying agility around his henchmen towards the sprinting X. The Hunter ran through his options. His Nova Strike wasn't quite up to full power yet, so he couldn't use that. Most of his other special weapons were fully charged, due to the godsend of a helmet that Dr. Light had installed in the Fourth Armor, which contained a built in generator in the helmet gem that through a recycling of power cells made it possible for X to continuously use his special attacks. The only time he lost weapon energy was when he charged the attacks, which he'd already done to a few of them. He didn't know how any could help him in this situation, though. The Aiming Laser wasn't strong enough and he didn't have time to line up the shot. A Double Cyclone wouldn't move a Chimera unless it was charged, and even then it'd just pin them against a wall for a few seconds. The Rising Fire was obviously useless, and the Ground Hunters were useless against the Chimera feet. A charged spray of Twin Slashers might help, but they wouldn't do enough damage to destroy the Chimeras. Soul Bodies would just take up too much energy for no real advantage. That left the Lightning Web and the Frost Tower…now wouldn't THAT be a combo to remember!

            "Well whuddya know?" Mortar mused as X's armor changed to a black and yellow combination. "He's a frickin' chameleon." The import of X's move was not lost on the assassin, however, and he discretely backed his Chimera up a few steps.

            Seconds later a storm of yellow lights filled the room as a giant twisting web of golden electrical energies spread throughout the center of the arena. The three henchmen were rendered utterly helpless as their machines locked up from the charged Lightning Web's interference—Mortar was just barely out of range and only had to tug his machine free from a few stray bands of light.

            X was hardly finished, however. He leapt into the air and the hover thrusters in his boots activated, but he pushed them a bit past their limits, actually dashing upwards through the air. As he rose his armor changed to a light blue and his arm cannon charged. No sooner had he touched down on the balcony than a series of giant ice shards materialized in the air above the Mavericks, who all looked up with the same pitiful expression. X merely smiled and watched the ice fall, smashing into the defenseless Chimeras from above, their one weak spot. To X's great joy, the pilot of the least damaged Chimera got completely crushed by a direct hit, and his machine slumped into disuse. The other two reeled, stunned by the attack. Mortar, however, had backed his Chimera underneath the balcony above him, and was thus spared any damage.

            "You think you can come through with cheap tricks, X?" the old Maverick roared.

            "You bet," X retorted, reverting his armor to purple and black while charging the Twin Slasher. "What's to stop me from just sitting up here forever?"

            Mortar answered him with the Chimera's chest cannon. The wide-eyed X only had time to fall flat on his face before the fireball exploded into the metal wall behind him, showering his armored body with burning shrapnel. Yelping in pain, X rolled off the balcony as Mortar prepared another shot. The old soldier redirected the shot at the grounded X, but this time the Hunter was well in the lead. He dodged Mortar's attack and stepped up to the unmanned Chimera, raising his cannon at the remaining two henchmen. He fired the charged Twin Slasher, a purple storm of energy blades that ripped into the Chimera armor. This was the straw that broke the first one's back, and the Chimera collapsed into uselessness. The second one reeled, sparked, and came at X again, albeit with much less spring in its step.

            X, however, now had an edge of his own. The champion Hunter hopped into the Chimera and was pleased to learn that his Frost Tower had not destroyed much of the controls. He powered up the machine and it stood up just in time to receive the full brunt of the remaining drone's fist. X held on tight as his mech shuddered and stumbled, and didn't even have time to close the protective cockpit barrier before he surged forward and punched the attacking Chimera in its own torso. That pilot was a little less skilled and allowed his machine to stumble awkwardly for a much longer period of time.

            So ensconced was X in gaining control of a ride armor that he didn't notice Mortar speeding in from the side. He caught the Maverick out of the corner of his eye when it was too late, and managed to turn his mech to brace for impact. It wasn't enough, and the armor protecting the mecha's inner workings cracked and split. X himself was nearly thrown from the cockpit by the force. Mortar let out a short bark of a laugh and swung the other massive fist in X's direction, but this time the Hunter counterattacked, dashing to the side while sending out his own punch. X's fist caught Mortar's fist from the side and spun the enemy Chimera around, foiling all sense of balance for the old Maverick.

            X had little time to celebrate. The other Chimera was coming at him at full speed. Rather than meeting the henchman dead on, X reversed his thrusters and sped his Chimera back away from the Maverick. As they approached the wall X gradually leaned the machine to the right, and as he suspected the Maverick followed him, not prepared to let his quarry escape. X held his breath and did something very daring—he stopped, reversed his thrusters again, and sped suddenly to the _left_. At the same time he began charging his X-Buster. Luck was with him, because not only did the Chimera thrusters hold out against the sudden grating change the Maverick did not have time to redirect himself and slammed awkwardly into the wall. X finished charging while the Maverick redirected himself and sent the huge burst of plasma at the top of the Chimera. If there was a protective barrier it didn't hold, because when the smoke cleared there wasn't much left of the Maverick pilot. Another one bit the dust.

            Again X had no time to celebrate. He turned just in time to watch Mortar's chest cannon fire a little comet straight at him, and he knew full well that his Chimera could never dodge fast enough. There was no escape. X braced for impact but he was still unprepared. When the shot hit the Chimera was rocked back on its heels, and would have fallen over had X not been so close to the wall. Instead it rebounded off the wall and staggered back onto its feet. X, on the other hand, was not so well off. He let out a scream as his limbs burned with pain. His armor was singed, and he was getting worried. His armor had received remarkably little damage thus far, but he only had one Sub-Tank left after the Cyber Peacock fight. He didn't want to use it now.

            Mortar didn't take any time to celebrate either. He rushed X with full intent to kill, and it was all X could do to force his ride armor into a defensive stance. He surged forward to meet Mortar and struck a blow in between the enemy's fists. Before Mortar registered the hit, though, both his fists struck X's mech, one hitting a shoulder. X remembered sullenly that this was the Chimera with the disjointed arm. That arm was now useless.

            Both combatants staggered back, glaring at each other with as much malice as they could muster. "Not bad, gramps," X spat, tasting blood. The fire attack had hit him harder than he'd expected.

            "Likewise, Hunter," Mortar retorted. "I just bet you're having the time of your life tonight."

            "I know you are," X shot right back. "All those lives you vaporized…you must have loved it. Do you even care?"

            "Did _you _care?" Mortar snapped. "You know what it's like to be a slave, X? Of course not. You were the pretty boy masterpiece of the human race. You got pampered and protected while the race you fathered was forced into slavery!"

            "I fathered nothing!" X fairly roared. "Dr. Light fathered Reploids! I'm merely his prototype!"

            "Yes! Dr. Light! A human!" Mortar roared back. "Humans tried to mass produce a slave race! But I don't even _care _about that. All I care about is my own unit…it was the only world I ever knew, and it was hell. And you all stood by and let it happen! You defended the humans when Sigma wanted justice!" Mortar's eyes darkened. "And for that, X, you're nothing more than a pawn! No better than us!"

            "I thought you didn't want to mince words," X cut him off, powering up his Chimera for a charge.

            "I—" He blinked and actually smiled. "Well it's just so much _fun!_" A second later his Chimera shot forward towards X's at blinding, inexplicable speeds. X knew he couldn't dodge and so he met Mortar's charge head on. The two ride armors collided, each with their fists in full swing.

            The end result was recoil beyond belief. Both ride armors actually flew back the ways they'd come, each machine sparking furiously to demonstrate its wounds. X was clearly the worse off, however, and Mortar gave him no quarry. Another torrent of fire exploded from the Maverick's ride armor cannon and sped on a collision course with the Hunter, who realized with no small horror that he could not escape.

            X was nearly thrown from his mount, and he immediately wished he had been. Blinding pain coursed through his body as the plasmatic flames ate through his bodysuit and into his synthetic skin. He cried out in pain, but quickly became aware that he had been spared the full brunt of the blast, which had struck his Chimera in the chest. X didn't want to think about what would be happening to him if he'd been hit dead on. His Chimera, anyway, was useless, barely able to stand. X had a sneaking suspicion that the power core might explode any minute.

            "You call that an attack?" Mortar was living it up. "I'm still going very strong, my friend. Matter of fact, I could keep this up all day! But I won't." X wondered then why Mortar, an experienced assassin and seasoned fighter, would be making the always-fatal mistake of gloating when he could be killing. Then he realized that Mortar was indeed interested in killing, and he'd only been stalling for time while his ride armor took on a reddish flaming hue. It was charging…Mortar wasn't playing games anymore. "You came here for justice, right? Well so did I, and I'm gonna have it one way or another!"

            "You're murderers!" X exclaimed, pulling his Chimera to its feet. He had one last trick up his sleeve, thanks to Mortar's flame attacks, and all he needed to do now was set up the situation by buying his own time. "Your 'justice' has left innocent people dead!"

            "There is always collateral damage, you fool!" Mortar's eyes smoldered. "It's a war!"

            "It's _genocide_!" X shouted, diverting all the Chimera's power to a charge in Mortar's direction.

            "It's _revolution_!" Mortar countered right back. "It's _true _justice, for what the humans have done to the Reploids! Our day in court never came, X, but our days on the battlefield have never ceased! And what about you and your own little extermination campaigns? You kill anyone who disagrees with what you and the humans think. It's tyrannical, and just as evil as anything we have done. And you call _that _justice?" Mortar of Terrornova set his own glowing ride armor for a death rush at X. "It's time to end this. Let's see which 'justice' is still standing in the end. Now come on!" His Chimera surged forward like a burning meteor. "I'll crush you!"

            X set his own machine in motion, meeting Mortar's charge at very high speeds. He resisted the urge to cry "FREEEDOOOM!" and instead chose a simple yell to voice his dedication. The two massive suits of walking armor approached each other, and it seemed clear that Mortar's attack would devastate X. Then, however, at the very last second…X leapt out of the cockpit. Mortar's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat as soon as he realized that something was dreadfully amiss.

            There was a loud cry of "NOVA STRIKE!" and the whole room went white.

            Sound was crushed in the arena, and it seemed to be taking a while for the white haze to vanish. Chimera guts were scattered all throughout the room, some of them still glowing with Mortar's curious fire. In a far corner of the room a battered Mega Man X picked himself up to his wobbly feet, slowly regaining his balance and senses. His audio receptors had just been damaged by the sounds of three consecutive explosions at point blank range, and his optics were still adjusting back to the darkness. Almost as soon as the Hunter stood up straight, however, his body began to ache with pain, and after a quick diagnostic check he learned why. His Nova Strike had taken him clear through the enemy Chimera's lower torso, snapping the machine in half like a twig. Its internal generator had exploded shortly after, but not before X's own Chimera, which was still speeding along behind him, came up and impacted Mortar's dying ride armor before X had cleared the 

area, jarring him between the two exploding bodies and badly damaging some of his armor and most of his internal systems. It was all made worse by the fact that Mortar had been preparing for some kind of super attack, the effects of which aided in the size of the explosion that had thrown X across the room. Left with no other choice, X drained the last of his two Sub-Tanks, recharging his internal energies up to full capacity.

            Once this was done X's senses returned to him far more quickly. He examined the arena and saw: scrap. There was lots and lots of scrap, all of it from four Chimera ride armors and their former riders. X looked around the room for any sign of his Terrornova adversary and was pleased when he found no sign of him. Mortar was now a permanent resident of the Reploid junkyard, left to rot with all the other murderous Mavericks who'd failed in their attempts to—

            And there the bastard was, rising from the ashes of his ride armor, charred and coughing, but for the most part intact.

            "Not bad!" Mortar declared in mid-cough. "You're as good as they say."

            "Flattery won't get you anywhere," X said tiredly, raising his arm cannon and charging it. "I'm sick and tired of all this…I want it over with."

            "Well aren't you the selfish one." Mortar shrugged and activated his teleporter. "Anyway, that's enough for today, I think."

            "Not a chance," X shook his head. "You're not getting another chance to pull a stunt like this. You can surrender now, or you can die."

            "I think we both know that I'll never surrender," the Maverick made his choice, activating his transporter. Nothing. An unmistakable "What the hell?" look spread over his face, but Mortar had a reputation for putting two and two together very fast. It was stunning and it was unbelievable, except for the fact that it made perfect sense: Sigma was boxing him in to take a fall, so the others would go berserk. "You son of a bitch," he breathed.

            X, misinterpreting Mortar, smiled thinly and finished his charge. "It was your choice."

            Mortar didn't move—it would have been pointless. X for once had no thoughts of mercy or pacifism…he just wanted to end the fighting, and years of war had taught him that the only way to do this was to destroy those who created the fighting. Still, he couldn't look at the nuclear terrorist when he shot him, and fired his cannon with his eyes closed.

            This made him all the more surprised when something jarred him sharply, foiling his aim and sending his blast up at the balcony, the balcony neither of the combatants had been watching. X's eyes snapped open in shock as he tumbled down on his ass, and he was quite shocked when he beheld his new enemy…

            "_Zero_?!"

            "Impossible!" Mortar yelped, but a strong grip from behind stopped him from taking any drastic action. The old Maverick spun sharply and his face took on its own shock.

            "Stop," Teytha said, holding him with a vice-grip. "Dear God, stop…"

            "What…?" Mortar stood in shock for a full minute as it fully dawned on him that he had almost died. Then it occurred to him that Teytha had probably seen it all, since Zero had arrived only in the nick of time, and he wrapped his "daughter" in his arms. "Oh, my God…"

            "X," Zero said to his stunned partner, fixing him with a glare that was both stony and uncertain, "Stand down."

            For a long time X just stared at Zero as the logic circuits in his mind systematically shorted out. "_WHAT?_"

            "I know you don't understand," Zero pleaded, in a stark contrast to his former force. He had no idea how he was going to do this. "But—"

            "You're damn right I don't understand!" X fairly shouted, scrambling to his feet and looking at Zero as though he were a triple-headed ferret. "What did they do to you here? You've never acted so…"

            "Merciful?" Zero snorted. "You've never acted so viciously, unless you were fighting Sigma."

            "They might as well be Sigmas! All of them!" X thrust his pointer finger towards the huddled Mavericks. "They _nuked _us, Zero!"

            "_I KNOW!_" Zero shouted. "I can explain it to you later, X, but now we don't have time! Trust me! I know it's stupid and makes no sense, but just _trust me_!"

            "How?" Mortar was asking Teytha. "How did this happen?"

            "I can't fully explain it," she replied, still shakily, examining Mortar's wounds with a grimace. "He came instead of X, and we fought, but…"

            "But what?" He took her by the shoulders and looked right at her. "Why didn't you retreat?" Her voice caught in her throat, but all Mortar needed to see was the look in her eyes to confirm his own suspicions. "Sigma…that bastard…that son of a _bitch!_"

            "He wants us dead," Teytha whispered. "He wants us to die so Malevex and Gredam will…"

            "I know…" Mortar hugged her again, though his eyes remained wide open. The weight of Sigma's betrayal was absolutely crushing—he was the hero of Reploids, the champion of the oppressed…the man to whom they'd pledged their allegiance, and the man they'd even dropped nukes for…now he was putting them out like the cat, just for a better chance to destroy X and Zero? But, Mortar realized, was that really so surprising? The Terrornova cadre had just spent over a year planning a massive campaign for revenge—revenge was all they'd lived for. Was Sigma really any different? Could they really have expected him to be the same person after several disastrous, demoralizing defeats? All he must care about, Mortar now knew, was destroying his archrival X and his meddlesome sidekick Zero…and Mortar and his friends were just pawns to be used and sacrificed to lure the enemy into the checkmate. It was the same thing they had done with the Mavericks, moving them in position to achieve their own ends, Mortar admitted—but that didn't make him any less pissed off about it.

            "What's next?" X snapped. "Are you going to tell me not to kill Cyber Peacock and Sigma? Because I've already done in one of them."

            "No," Zero frowned, getting annoyed. "Not at all. Peacock was an absolute monster all throughout his existence, and Sigma…there are no words for the pain that animal should experience. But it's not their fault Sigma exists to twist all these Reploids."

            "It's their fault Megacity 5 was just nuked," X retorted, absolutely amazed that there was even another side to the argument. _NUKES_, for crying out loud!

            "Was it their fault?" Zero challenged, and all of a sudden X froze stiff. "Yeah. It would never have happened if humans hadn't had a stick up their asses to begin with about our kind."

            "It doesn't excuse what they did," X insisted still. "Nothing can."

            "If not them, it would have been someone else! Don't you get it, X?" Zero tore his helmet off and ran his hand through his hair, trying to come up with a way to put his sentiments into words. Why, why did it have to be so hard for X to understand? That all Zero wanted was to change…to at least make an effort to do what he should have done during the fourth uprising. "You want to stop the evil? The evil is in our government, not here. The government fashioned the soldiers—Sigma merely put the guns in their hands."

            "So what? We're supposed to excuse every Maverick action from now on because the humans started it?"

            "Christ, no!" Zero gestured randomly in his frustration. "But is it necessary here? Do you really think these people will try this shit again?"

            "People said the same thing about Sigma—"

            "Sigma _betrayed _them!" Zero roared, silencing X. "He left them to die! Just like everyone else! But I'm not going to join that crowd. For once," he added quietly, but X heard it nonetheless, and he saw the look in Zero's eyes—it was there only for a second, but X saw it and it lasted forever. It was a look of intense grief, mixed with fear and self-loathing…a desperation X had only seen once before in his partner's eyes. The fourth uprising had just ended, and Zero, devastated by the "murders" of Colonel and Iris, had suffered a breakdown that X had accidentally witnessed. It was the only time he'd ever seen Zero lose it, and though he'd managed to talk Zero back to his senses many of the things his friend said then sprang back into X's mind. Zero still saw Iris in his dreams, dead on the floor and staring accusingly at him; he saw Sigma mocking him and berating his efforts to reform; and most curious of all, he talked about a "Doctor" who kept beckoning him to his true fate. Zero and Sigma had spoken alone aboard Final Weapon, and X had little idea as to what had been said, but he could take guesses, and they weren't reassuring. But Zero had improved, and as far as X knew he never shed another tear over the incident…publicly, at least.

            Now, though, the look was there again, and though X didn't fully understand it he knew that Zero's mental state depended on this…and Zero, for all his unpredictability, was rarely wrong about Mavericks. "All right," X said at length. "But if they _ever _even _breathe _the wrong way around me, I'll—"

            "Thank God!" Zero cut him off, showing what was probably too much of his gratitude. "You don't have to worry about them."

            "Why did he spare you?" Mortar asked Teytha quietly, aware of the other conversation now.

            "I don't…really know," Teytha confessed just as quietly, staring past Mortar at Zero, who had turned to acknowledge them. "But I think…we can trust him."

            "A Hunter?"

            "Yes," Zero answered for Teytha, prompting Mortar to turn around. "You're lucky, old man. That story of yours stuck."

            "About time," Mortar commented dryly.

            "Listen," Teytha urged, "there's not much time."

            "Yeah," Zero agreed. "I don't know about Gredam, but Malevex is still in here. I'm going to see that he gets out of here all right."

            "'You'?" Mortar frowned. "You're not going anywhere without us. He'll never believe you."

            "No," Zero said firmly. "You two have to go. The longer you're in here, the more of a chance there is that Sigma'll do the job himself."

            "Like hell!" Teytha stepped forward. "He's our comrade. We're not going to just leave—"

            "I'm not asking you to leave him," Zero interrupted decisively. "I'm asking you to help him, by not putting yourselves in a position to drive him mad."

            "Sigma can just lie to him," Teytha pointed out. "He controls all the computers—he can just make it look like we're dead! What difference does it make if we are or not?"

            "It does make a difference, because it's possible to convince him that Sigma's lying. It's NOT possible to convince him when one or both of you is in a body bag." Zero shook his head. "I'll let you go, but you've really gotta _go_. Otherwise this was all for nothing."

            "I don't think you know what you're asking," Mortar said slowly. "Every time we've trusted a Hunter, we've—"

            "I'm not Kitao or Chartreuse," Zero pointed out. "I'm a Hunter, but I'm not here to Hunt…not for you, anyway." His vision shifted from Mortar to Teytha, and he read her ambivalent face like a book. "I know…how you feel," he managed to say, actually resting a hand on her shoulder. She surprised him by not pulling away, tilting her head upwards to meet his gaze, and for the first time Zero saw shyness in a Maverick's eyes. "I've been there. But I'm gonna get him out. I promise you that. But you have to promise _me _that you'll get to safety."

            If Teytha gave him an answer it was with her eyes, and though they didn't change much Zero thought he saw some kind of acknowledgement there. Mortar took his younger colleague by her other shoulder and answered for them both. "Triangle Rock. I know, all the mountains look like triangles, but…he'll know what you mean."

            Zero absorbed this and nodded. Whatever Triangle Rock was, that was the meeting place. He looked again at the assassins, and smiled inwardly as he realized he understood them perfectly. Teytha was very much like X, confounded by this impossible mercy and uncertain whether to be grateful yet or not; Mortar was much more practical, and was interested only on capitalizing on this rare and unexpected opportunity. Zero could appreciate both attitudes.

            Quite suddenly, a small tremor shook the room. There was a sound in the distance like steel grating against more steel, and immediately the Mavericks' eyes changed.

            "Impossible," Teytha whispered.

            "The Marauder?" Mortar spun towards the origin of the sound. "Now?"

            "The Marauder?" X perked up at that. "Marauder X74? The ride armor?"

            "One and the same." Mortar smiled sheepishly. "It's our 'Weapon'. Gold Serpent stole it from the Megacity Army…and we bought it."

            "Could it be…Malevex?" Teytha worried aloud. "Could Sigma have already got him thinking that…?"

            "Whoever it is," Mortar declared, "it's a problem for you Hunters."

            "Then let's solve it." X stepped cautiously towards the assassins. He no longer looked at them with outright contempt, but there was still a definite mistrust conveyed through his eyes. "I'll have a look at this Marauder. Zero, you go find your friend."

            "X," Zero said warily, "Marauder is a monster. You can't take something like that yourself—"

            "I beat Sigma in all his demonic incarnations…don't tell me what I can and can't destroy," X retorted, still somewhat bitter over his relative powerlessness in this situation. "Anyway I don't plan on fighting it…I just want to know what's going on for when we do launch our attack. And this Malevex dude is probably better off in your hands than mine, Zero."

            Zero pondered it for a short while, but he pushed his worries aside and jammed his helmet back on his head. "Right. Watch what you're shooting, X." He turned next to Mortar and Teytha. "Please…go. Get out of here the easiest way you can, and get to that Triangle Rock place. I'll find Malevex."

            "He'll be in the third ring, if he's not the one activating Marauder," Mortar informed his unlikely ally. He didn't sound too happy about it, either. For Mortar, Zero surmised, there was still something ugly about working with Hunters, not from a Terrornova standpoint but from a Maverick standpoint. Even if Sigma had stabbed him in the back, Mortar was still against selling out the other regular Mavericks. Again, Zero could appreciate that.

            "All right then." Zero nodded and turned towards the balcony. X turned wordlessly and exited the room from the gate he'd come in from. Zero prepared to fire up his boots for a burst to the top, but Teytha's voice stopped him. He turned to see her advancing hesitantly, but obviously with a purpose. "What is it…?"

            "It's…about Malevex," she explained haltingly. "He…he really won't believe you, if Sigma does what we think he's going to do."

            "I'll find a way around that," he assured her, but she wouldn't let up.

            "You say so, but…" She lowered her voice, and Zero's interest peaked. Secrets were cool. "Tell him…about the Diceman incident."

            Zero blinked as the name came back to him. Winston Diceman had been a weapons developer in the days before the first uprising. He'd fitted several outfits with their firearms, but the only really notable thing about his practice was the way he'd died—cut to ribbons in his office. "What do you have to do with that?"

            Her head fell slightly, and he could easily detect the shame in her voice. "Everything." She inhaled slowly and continued. "Diceman used Terrornova as a test group for his new wares…sometimes they backfired. Diceman was given more and more power, which he abused like the bastard he was, and finally…" She broke off and clenched her fists. "It was when we were all together…Diceman, Chartreuse, and the whole unit…none of the superiors could figure out how I did it…hell, none of the _unit _ever figured it out either. I just…snapped."

            Zero let out a very long breath. As much as he hated to hear that, there was a little voice in the back of his head that told him he couldn't blame her without being a hypocrite. "What does this have to do with Malevex?"

            "He's the only one who knows." She looked up at Zero. "The only one I ever told."

            Zero was about to respond with another question, but he closed his mouth and nodded as he began to understand. "I couldn't have gotten that from you if I'd killed you…and only you could have known that. It's proof that you're alive."

            She nodded and backed up, as the grating sound grew louder in the distance. "We'll go. Just promise me you'll…"

            "No worries," he assured her. "Just keep your noses clean this time, dammit. Or I'll never hear the end of this." He turned away and leapt up onto the balcony, dashing down the hall he'd used to come here. There was a little known path to the third ring there—Teytha had shown him on the way. "Malevex," he whispered as he ran. "Please tell me you haven't gone batshit already…"

            Teytha stood there after he left, her head spinning with far too many conundrums. Mortar broke the silence with a rush of relieved laughter. "_Jesus_ H. Christ, I dunno what that boy's been smoking, but we gotta get it dealt throughout the whole Hunter corps!" He rushed over to Teytha, taking her shoulder. "Come on, T."

            "You trust him?" she asked, still hesitant.

            Mortar put on his best confident grin. "Of course! Blondes aren't clever enough to lie like that!" He chuckled, even though he wasn't in a laughing mood, and gestured towards their exit. "Trust the man. He went through a lot of trouble to stop X from tearing me a new one. I don't think he did it just for show."

            Teytha finally nodded, and Mortar took off for the gate. She took one look behind her, where Zero had exited. Hearing Mortar's urgings for haste in the background, she mouthed a belated "thank you" and started out the door.

            Delates laughed triumphantly. At long last, they were at their destination—the floor of Seraph Castle where the foundation was most vulnerable. Lyon had his charges out already, and Tyclammel and Cort were bringing up the rear, on guard for anything. Acrystos, still unnerved over her recent capture, stuck close to Delates, her stun pistol out and ready. "You know," she said quietly as they approached the chamber, "if it were Castle I was working with, we'd already have this job taken care of by ourselves."

            "Really?" Delates smiled smugly. "And then you could even share a kiss as your carnage unfolds behind you. How very James Bond."

            "Whatever works," she chuckled, glancing about her for threats. "You've worked with Damia enough. Tell me you've never pulled that with her."

            "We are professionals," Delates insisted, reddening. "Not teenagers!" He frowned and glanced curiously at his scout. "Ever wonder how this is? That we can be going into the deepest darkest part of our mission, with our comrade Feldspar dead behind us, our bodies spattered with blood already, and still we're making small talk?"

            "I used to wonder a lot about things like that," she replied dismissively. "Then I realized it's much more distracting than the small talk itself. I choose what's less likely to get my ass blown away."

            "Well said."

            "Boss," Lyon said, falling back. "We're in the zone. Sticking with the plan?"

            Delates looked ahead. They were entering a very large rectangular area that from above looked like a box with a cross inside. Hallways ran along the four edges and in the center of these hallways were cross-paths that led up to the center of the area. There were strategic points—the four corners, mainly—that Lyon wanted to hit, and it was their job to cover him as he did so. "Looks good to me. All right guys," he said to the small cluster of elites. "Let's get going." Tyclammel armed his Gatlin gun and nodded calmly; Acrystos checked to make sure her energy daggers were in place and then readied her stun gun to immobilize anything she came across; Lyon had his cannon deactivated and was busying himself with the charges; Cort merely twirled his pistols patiently.

            The Hunters spread out into the labyrinth, covering the entrances to the north and east in this rectangle inside a rectangle. Lyon hurriedly set his charge, and against all odds…nothing happened.

            "Dandy," Tyclammel cracked a grin. Delates nodded and looked to Lyon, who gestured north. They'd have to cross a long hallway to get to the next room, with the next extreme corner. The Hunters filed out, moving cautiously but quickly. About halfway through, as they came to the cross-path…

            "Hahahahaha…"

            The sound echoed ominously throughout the corridors, freezing all the Hunters in their tracks. Delates shook his head violently to clear it—had he really heard that? Cautiously, he moved towards the path, turning sharply with his weapon at the ready to make sure he could attack if there was anyone to shoot at…but there was nothing. Only a long hall leading off into darkness, and what seemed like a central chamber. Motioning for the others to follow, Delates crept down the hall, his buster charging. As the cadre got closer to the large, domed enclosure at the center of the basement, they made out a lone figure standing in the middle of the area. It was a tall man shrouded in a blood red cape, and who sported a chrome dome that was all too horribly familiar.

            "You're late," Sigma stated. "I've been waiting for you for quite some time."

            "Jesus!" Delates exclaimed, jumping back and firing his charged blast. Sigma merely smiled and shimmered out of existence, reappearing to the right of his previous position. He evidently had a short-range warping system. Appearance-wise, though, he was very similar to his first form, with his jade green armor and monster lightsaber sitting in his belt. His boots, however, were dark black instead of brown, and lines of gold snaked up the right half of his body, while silver trimmings adorned his left half, merging at his chest in a cross of sorts.

            The Maverick King chuckled and shook his head. "Zero's protégé…every bit as fiery as his commander. Well, the more rage, the better, I always say."

            "I'm not interested in what you have to say!" Delates snapped, deactivating his cannon and drawing his lightsaber. "Lyon, get to it! The rest of you, help him out!"

            "What?!" Acrystos was in disbelief. "You can't handle him on your own!"

            "This isn't our mission!" Delates shouted. "Our mission is…you know what it is! Now accomplish it!"

            "Oh please," Sigma sighed. "Do you really think I can't figure out what you're doing on this floor, of all floors?"

            "Do you really think I care what you know or don't know? Go!" Delates needn't have said it—Lyon was already gone. The others followed, even Acrystos, leaving Delates and Sigma alone in the central chamber. "Now die, you bastard!" Delates didn't even give his enemy time to draw his weapon. He launched himself forward, slashing his saber towards the Maverick's throat. Sigma, without flinching, simply kicked Delates in the chest when he got close enough.

            "Don't feel too bad," Sigma grinned as he cracked his knuckles. "No one _ever _sees that coming."

            "Cheap," Delates coughed, pulling himself to his feet. Sigma shrugged and activated his own saber, a pulsating concentration of neon green energies. Delates made the move again, rushing Sigma with a combo already selected. Sigma parried every blow with an almost half-assed demeanor before throwing out his own string of attacks with blinding, overwhelming speed. Nevertheless Delates managed to hold his own, much to Sigma's surprise.

            "Impressive!" Sigma clucked, jumping back. "How long did you practice that?"

            "Eat shit!" Delates replied, not at all in the mood for conversation. Sigma just laughed and warped out of the way. "Stand still and fight, you coward!"

            "To what end?" Sigma asked him calmly. "You barely managed to defend yourself. You couldn't even get in one attack once I started trying."

            "So you got lucky," Delates snapped, refusing to give the Maverick any satisfaction. "We're both just getting warmed up!"

            At this moment a rumbling filled the room, followed by the sound of a freight elevator grating its way upstairs. Sigma frowned and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. "The hell…?"

            Delates, seeing his chance, surged forward and struck out again, but Sigma, with his annoying nonchalance, deflected the blow heavily and sent Delates staggering backwards. How did X and Zero ever defeat this monster?

            Sigma shook his head and smiled slowly. "So, Gredam, you've come home." He looked back at Delates and his grin grew wider. "I guess it's time to get this show on the road." He shimmered, and was gone. Before Delates could raise the alarm Sigma's voice erupted from the shadows: "ATTACK!"

            Seconds later a shot exploded to the right of Delates' head. The Hunter whirled, but saw nothing. His infrared flashed on, partly because of instinct, and he spun around searching for his foe. He finally picked up on his opponent, a limping infrared form, and smugly he switched off his sensors and beheld—nothing. _Cloaking shields!_ He realized it just as another shot crashed into the wall right behind him, shooting debris up at his face, leaving a thin cut. "Dammit!" he raged as he reactivated his infrared and sped directly towards his enemy, who was running away to set up for another ambush.

            For his part, Diavus was glad for the cloaking shield Sigma had provided when he'd finally shown up. Loader and Gerritt had them too, and were around here somewhere. He located Loader when Tyclammel fell flat on his face with a surprised "ULF!" Sure enough, Diavus saw the cricket Maverick via infrared leaping off of Tyclammel's stunned form.

            Cort saw it too. He snapped his pistols up at Loader's moving form and began to fire, placing dots in a line across the ceiling but missing the agile cricket every time. The Maverick, a big infrared blur, landed near Cort and shot him with a bolt of electricity from his optics. The Hunter shivered as the harmful energies coursed through him, but still he managed to raise a pistol and fire once into Loader's chest. It was the first wound the Maverick had taken thus far, and it unsettled him. Cort snarled and prepared to finish the job, when all of a sudden the sharp bark of a machine gun broke out behind him. The Hunter slumped to the floor, bleeding from several wounds.

            Loader let out a crackling laugh as Gerritt shimmered into existence, his gun still smoking. Before either could capitalize on Cort's misfortune, however, a storm of small missiles zoomed their way at lightning speed, exploding into the walls and floor and driving both Mavericks slightly mad.

            "Eat this, you cocksuckers!" Tyclammel raged as his blaster ring whined, the barrels preparing to unleash another explosive storm.

            "Jesus!" Loader exclaimed. "Run!" But Gerritt needed no encouragement—he was already gone. Loader followed his example, hopping away and ducking down a cross-path. Tyclammel approached the coughing Cort, helping him against a wall. The silver-haired Hunter pushed his comrade away, however, forcing himself to his feet.

            "I'll live."

            "You better," Tyclammel ordered, ignoring the severity of Cort's chest wounds.

            Gerritt had fled, but he was being followed. "What now, bitch?!" Acrystos shouted, firing bursts of her stun gun ahead of her. Gerritt avoided the crackling rays to the best of his ability, but the speedy Aegis agent was gaining on him. Suddenly an explosion to Acrystos's right demanded her attention. She spun to the left to confront the source of the shot, but Diavus had already ducked back into hiding. His back wound prevented him from getting directly into the fray, but he was quite content staying in the shadows. Growling, Acrystos spun back to Gerritt, but he, too was gone. "Double teamed and ditched," she shook her head. "What next?"

            "LOOK OUT!" Delates answered her question, rushing out from the nearest side corridor.

            "What…?" Acrystos had turned halfway around before Sigma materialized behind her. The big Maverick smashed her across the face with a brutal backhand, spilling her flat on the floor. Reacting quickly despite her pain, the Huntress pointed her gun at Sigma and fired. Sigma merely extended his hand, clouded by a bluish mist, and the golden ray of crackling energies dissipated upon contact. "That's…not possible!"

            "There's a counter for every attack," Sigma reminded her, just before hefting his sword into the air. "Now, let me show you a _real_ paralysis move!"

            "Move!" Delates shouted at her, but he was too late. Sigma jammed the blade into the ground, and a shockwave of energies shot through the floor. Delates, sensing the nature of the attack, leapt over it, but Acrystos, flat on the floor, was hit full force and encased in chains of agonizing electricity. "You bastard!" Delates shouted, unleashing his charged blast in midair. Grunting, Sigma ripped his sword from the floor and held it in front of the blast. Most of it dissipated, but the Maverick still found himself charred. With another grunt, this one of dismissal, he leapt backwards away from the stunned, moaning Acrystos.

            "About time you started trying," the master terrorist sneered, his blue-globe optics glowing even brighter. A laser shot out of each one, and Delates had little time to react. They struck him in the chest, blowing apart a small chunk of his armor and knocking him down. "That's it?" Sigma laughed. "This is the best you can throw at me?"

            His gloating was silenced when the ground beneath his feet exploded violently, throwing him headfirst into the nearby wall.

            "Lyon!" Delates cried jubilantly, getting back to his feet. "Nice shooting!"

            Lyon didn't even acknowledge him, continuing to work hard on setting the second charge. He finished up shortly after his attack, but no sooner had he done so than a hot wave of pain shot through his lower back. Diavus had shot him. "You bastard," he hissed through clenched teeth, grateful for his heavy armor. His arm converted back into a bazooka-buster, and he searched for the slinking Mavericks.

            Cort followed close behind Tyclammel, who was heading towards Lyon and the others. Loader, seeing his chance, let out an angry cry and landed hard on Cort, causing the wounded Hunter to roar with pain. Tyclammel, however, roared louder with anger and spin-kicked Loader into the nearby wall. "Damn cricket," Tyclammel seethed, pointing his cannon at the horrified Maverick, whose attack had gone totally awry. "A goddamned _cricket_!" His blaster whirred and spun, and a storm of explosive projectiles bombarded Loader's pinned body, tearing the unfortunate Reploid to pieces. "I hate the bastards," Tyclammel spat as his cannon died down. "Keep me up at night."

            "I am in such pain," Cort redirected his friend's priorities.

            "Right." Tyclammel helped him up and brushed off some Loader guts. "Come on," he gestured towards Sigma. "Del's calling us."

            Gerritt had seen Loader's end, and it had reduced him to a shivering wreck. He backed into a wall, his assault rifle clattering in his hands. The raccoon nearly jumped out of his fur when Diavus tapped him on the shoulder. "Easy," the sniper hissed. "Don't worry about it…" He motioned towards Sigma. "Something's happening over there."

            "All Hunters," Delates was saying on his communicator as they all clustered together, "focus your firepower on Sigma."

            Sigma merely harrumphed and jammed his sword into the ground, crossing his arms over his chest, the very picture of arrogant indifference. Acrystos climbed slowly and painfully to her feet, the coils of energy sliding off her at last, and drew her energy daggers; Tyclammel started his Gatlin gun up; Cort managed to reload his pistols and level them at his target; Lyon took time away from his task to level his bazooka at Sigma; and Delates readied his charged cannon. "Eat this!" he shouted, unleashing his blast at the same time Lyon did his.

            The result should have been predictable—Sigma warped away, and the Hunters were rocked by their own projectiles. This time, however, the Maverick King reappeared behind Acrystos, lashing out with his saber. It was all the Huntress could do to fall before the blade felled her, and she drove an energy dagger into Sigma's thigh. Yelping in pain for the first time, Sigma kicked her square in the jaw and warped again as Tyclammel's salvo sped over Acrystos and exploded into the wall behind her, showering the unfortunate Huntress with shrapnel.

            Sigma reappeared further down from them, laughing all the way. "Is that it?" he taunted, tearing the dagger from his leg and letting it clatter to the floor. "Is that really all you've got? You're despicable. And you call yourselves elites!" As he spoke, coils of energy began surrounding his body, running up the silver and gold trimmings on his armor. The energies clustered around his fists and lightsaber, and he grinned maliciously at his opponents. "Fine, then. I'll just have to show you how it's done!"

            He threw the lightsaber into the air, where it stayed, by its own power, and hovered about the Maverick at increasing speeds. After a while the dancing blade was spinning so fast that there appeared to be several of them…and when they slowed down, there _were _several of them, all charged with that eerie blue energy Sigma radiated.

            "What's that?" Cort breathed. "Some kind of devilry?"

            "You should be so lucky!" Sigma cackled, thrusting his hand towards the Hunters. "Now meet your fate!" The sabers all shot towards the frantic cluster of Hunters, pointing the tips of their blades at their targets. Bursts of blue lightning began to fly from the swords, tearing up the ground at the Hunters' feet and punching holes in their armor. Cort, desperate, rolled himself painfully out of the line of fire, came to his knees, brought his guns up and fired off six shots, three from each gun. Sigma, surprised, dashed to the side, his cape billowing behind him, but his growl of pain indicated that some of the shots had found their marks. "You bastard!" Sigma seethed. "Why can't you just _die_?"

            "You're a fine one to talk," Cort retorted coolly, despite his heavy breathing. The fire in his chest was getting worse.

            The sword dance ended and the clones vanished. The real one returned to Sigma's hands—probably due to magnetism—and the Maverick King prepared for his next attack…

            …But then, something colossal happened.

            No one could tell why Sigma's eyes suddenly went wide, and why his head snapped up as though to look through the ceiling to the floors immediately above them. No one knew what had transpired up there. But Sigma did. Sigma knew everything that went on in Seraph Castle. The Virus made sure of that.

            "X," Sigma breathed, in total disbelief. "Against all his wishes…you've gone and done it." Offering no explanation for his enigmatic words, the terrorist began to shake with laughter. "Oh, god…ha ha ha…it's too perfect! Zero," he added in a whisper, "you're just going to _love _this!" He tilted his head back to let out a full-fledged evil cackle, snapping his head down to fix the bewildered Hunters with an excited glare. "Well, it's about time for me to make my exit. Before I go, though, I suppose I should at least kill one of you…and I piiiiick…"

            "What are you…?" Delates started to ask, but his eyes went wide when Sigma disappeared again. "SCATTER!" Cort threw himself from the wall, madly searching for a sign of his enemy, ready to shoot him at an instant's notice, but he never had the chance. A flash of energies erupted from behind both him and Delates, followed by a masculine scream…

            "…_You_!" Sigma finished his last statement, his sword impaled clear through Lyon's body.

            "You _BASTARD_!" Tyclammel exploded, throwing himself at Sigma like a wild animal. The Maverick merely surged forth and grabbed Tyclammel by his head, and a powerful current of electricity flowed down from Sigma's gauntlet to bathe the wild Hunter with immeasurable pain. The same electricity invoked agonized shrieks from Lyon as it traveled down Sigma's weapon, which was jammed under Lyon's left arm and protruded from his other side at about the same point.

            Roaring with rage, Delates stormed Sigma and shot him repeatedly at point blank range, but with normal power shots. Cort wanted to help, but Delates was in his line of fire. Sigma finally stopped shrieking with laughter and tore his sword bloodily from Lyon. The Hunter clattered to the ground, and Tyclammel was thrown back limply into the wall. Sigma then spun around, his cloak flapping suddenly and powerfully, snapping off of his person and flying into Delates's face. The Hunter madly fought his way out of it, looking for a fight, but Sigma…was gone. "You son of a bitch," Delates choked with anger. "You son of a _BITCH_! Get back here, you monster! You _animal_! I'll kill you, you hear me? _You won't leave this place alive_!"

            "Oh, but I will," Sigma's laughing voice taunted him from its safe refuge in invisibility. "I always do. Enjoy the party, my friends…it's just getting started, after all." Then no essence of him remained.

            "You bastard," Delates repeated, sinking to his knees. He was going to lose another one…first Feldspar, and now…

            "Delates," Acrystos said sharply, prompting him to turn around. She was supporting the woozy Cort, who Delates realized was bleeding from the chest and looked paler than ever. "Your E-Tank. Now."

            "Jesus, no! Not him too!" He jumped to his feet and removed the E-Tank from where it was linked to his torso, inside his chest armor.

            "I think he'll make it," Acrystos said quietly, helping to infuse Cort with the life-saving energies. "I don't know about him, though…"

            Delates looked over to Lyon, whom the charred Tyclammel was supporting shakily. "Lyon," Delates said, kneeling down to examine the wound. "How bad is it?" He really didn't have to ask. The hole was complete, and it was nasty. Many vitals were charred and broken, though somehow Sigma had missed Lyon's generator.

            Lyon surprised his temporary commander by grabbing him by the throat, mostly because it was the nearest thing to grab. "The charges," he wheezed, pulling Delates close enough to hear. "Set…the charges!"

            "We don't know how!" Tyclammel protested.

            "Sure…you do!" Lyon insisted with his characteristic annoyance. "You press…the buttons until…the green light turns on. S'all I do…"

            "How many are left?" Delates asked, indulging his doomed comrade.

            "Two." Lyon began struggling. "Get me…get me over there. I can help you guys still…he didn't kill me, not yet!"

            "Give him your E-Tank, Ty," Delates ordered. Tyclammel did so, despite his insensitive but natural worry that it would be a waste. "Come on. Let's get to the other corner. We're halfway there."

            "Set…the other one while we work," Lyon ordered, coughing up blood, though some vitality did return to his face with the new energy. "We've…gotta hurry. Something he said…it…bugs me."

            As though to confirm Lyon's suspicions, a loud whirring noise was heard from the central chamber, where they'd found Sigma. Delates turned towards it cautiously. "What's that…?"

            "I'll check," Acrystos volunteered, ever the scout.

            "I'm going with you," Delates insisted, looking to Tyclammel. "Take care of these two. Look out for…where the hell are those other two jokers anyway?"

            "I haven't seen them, sir," Tyclammel responded, referring to Diavus and Gerritt. "I think they left with Sigma."

            "Bastards," Delates growled. "All right, let's do this quickly."

            "Get me there," Lyon ordered sternly as the others left. "Get me there now."

            "Easy there," Tyclammel replied, helping the big Hunter to his feet. It turned out that Lyon could walk just fine, if someone supported his wounded upper half. "You all right there, Cort?"

            "I'll manage," the gunman replied, following them slowly as he let his nanomachines go to work.

            Delates and Acrystos ran cautiously but pointedly to the chamber, where they saw something they hadn't noticed before—the room was rounded, but one section of it was actually a cylinder…and it was opening, like a capsule. Hisses and whirrs were heard as smoke blew out from the opening hatches, and Acrystos recoiled in shock. "What is it?" Delates asked her, powering up his blaster in alarm.

            "It's…it's…" She couldn't finish, staring into the dark chamber gradually being revealed. She was getting power readings from inside…and they were immense. She hadn't detected them before on any Reploid…or mechaniloid. "Whoa, buddy…" she breathed.

            "…What are you?"

            The mass of green light solidified into the stocky Maverick field commander—his warp-in had been successful. Gredam of Terrornova looked around his reception spot for any sign of trouble. Finding none, he proceeded forward towards the entrance to the second ring—he was sitting right in the middle of it. As a matter of fact, the garage he was heading to was right above where Delates and company were having a picnic with Sigma. His assault rifle at his side and the safety off, Gredam moved purposefully enough, though his mind was spinning.

            _They were dead._ Malevex had said so, and that wasn't a joking matter. Teytha's communication was offline and her life signals had ceased…could there _possibly_ be any other explanation? Gredam went over it all in his mind, but everything he came up with was so farfetched that it would be foolish to trust to hope at this point. Mortar's signs had ceased as well. Mortar…God, why had they gotten him involved in all this? He'd been living a decent life, the only one of them to succeed in that area.

            "What have I done?" the Maverick asked himself, stopping in his tracks. He'd killed them…Chartreuse had set them up, and he'd played right into their hands. It was _just _like the last time, in the Chancellor District. Teytha was dead again, and this time Mortar was dead with her. Malevex…he was alive, but he must be devastated, Gredam thought. He'd never seen Malevex openly intimate with Teytha, but he knew attraction when he saw it. What did he have left? Revenge?

            "Yes," he admitted weakly, not reflecting on the oddity of talking to himself. "Revenge…that's all there is. Why couldn't I just…_let it go_?!" He slammed his fist into a nearby wall, and the bang resonated throughout the chambers. He'd been the one pushing for revenge, he'd been the one pushing for the nukes, he'd been the one pushing for _Gallagher_…and now they were all going to die because of him.

            But no, he thought, straightening up and shaking his head. Not yet. They had to live…he and Malevex, at least. They'd find what was left of the other two and…yes, it had worked before, hadn't it? There was still a way…there had to be a way. And if nothing else he and Malevex could at least chase down Chartreuse.

            He resumed walking and soon spied a figure standing motionless in the center of the hall—Malevex. The averagely built Reploid was watching Gredam as though he were a man walking out of an open grave. The dim ceiling light outlined Malevex's sleek black armor and its silver trim, but what light it shed on his face revealed a blank, uninterested visage, despite the emotion clear in his multicolored eyes. "You're alive."

            "I am," Gredam replied, matching Malevex's flat tone. "In a manner of speaking."

            "So am I…" His eyes betrayed all. "…In a manner of speaking."

            "Jesus Christ," Gredam whispered, approaching his friend. "It's the truth?"

            "I can't…I can't reach them." He shook his head slowly but finally. "They're…gone, Gredam. Both of them."

            The silence was the loudest thing either of them had ever heard. Then Gredam spun with a mighty roar and punched the wall again, this time leaving an indentation as well as fracturing a knuckle, but he didn't even notice. "It's not over," he seethed, shaking his head firmly. "Not yet."

            "What now?" Malevex asked tiredly. "Revenge? Look how far that got us…we were better off as fugitives."

            "I know…Jesus, I _know_!" The big Maverick rubbed his temples, his eyes unable to focus. "We can find them, can't we? We can patch Teytha up like the first time…and Mortar, too."

            "It's not that easy. You know it's not that easy."

            Then Gredam blinked as his eyes did notice something—a reddish smudge on Malevex's armor. "Is that…blood?"

            "Huh?" The dark Reploid raised his arm to view the blotch, and his lips curled into a frown.

            "Where have you been?" Gredam inquired, as curious as Malevex was.

            "I was in the control room, with Arson. When I got your message, I…" Then his face went even blanker. He looked up at Gredam with wide-open eyes and blinked them once. "I don't know."

            "You don't…know?"

            Malevex stared again at the smudge and shook his head very slowly, his face still a mask of confusion. "I remember we…Arson was upset about something, and…" He shook his head again. "Then I was walking here. I know that can't be all that happened, but…that's all I remember." He continued to stare at the blood, clearly haunted by the thought that he really was losing his mind.

            Gredam began to feel his insides squirm with suspicion. But no, he thought, that couldn't be…Sigma wouldn't do _that_. Why would he need to, with them? "It doesn't matter," he took charge, taking Malevex by the shoulder. "We've got to get out of here."

            "Why…?"

            "Because the bastard who did this is still at large, that's why."

            "What are you talking about? The people who did this are—"

            "Chartreuse, Malevex." Gredam's eyes were stone. "It was Chartreuse."

            Malevex's eyes went wide for a different reason. "_Chartreuse_? What does _he _have to do with this?" Then he finally noticed the sword wounds that criss-crossed Gredam's torso. "Oh, my god…"

            "Yeah…I fought him." Gredam touched his hand to the cuts in his armor. Malevex's eyes widened as he saw the extent of Gredam's torso damage—the armor was more or less spent. Cracks spread out from the gash marks like rivers on a map, and the camouflaged suit looked like it would fall apart at any second. There was something ominous to Malevex about this sight…he hoped it wasn't an omen of some sort. "And guess what—our old friend is better known in the underworld by the title 'Gold Serpent'."

            It took approximately eight seconds for Malevex to process that information and to decipher the full brunt of its implication. Then he physically recoiled from Gredam. "_No!_ Not again! That…that _bastard_!"

            "I'm sorry. I pulled you all into this, and now…"

            "He got us again," Malevex finished. "Jesus Christ, we thought we were _free_ from him…"

            "Isn't it worth it, Malevex? Isn't it worth it to live, just to get that bastard?"

            Malevex, who'd been staring at the floor for a while, raised his head with a rather sad expression on his face. "We'd never get close enough…I think you know that." He fell back against the wall. "If we escape they'll broadcast our images everywhere…no, Gredam…there's no hiding for us this time. If we want revenge…" He tilted his head towards the halls of the second ring. "…We'll have to get it from in here."

            Gredam slowly nodded, and with the bowing of his head came the destruction of his dreams for vengeance, the only thing that had been keeping him alive. Even when he'd been faced with a peaceful life with his friends, he'd been too fixed on violence to see the goodness of what he was being offered. What did that mean for him now, he wondered without really caring?

            Suddenly there came a sharp buzz from the security network—someone had tripped an infrared beam and was heading this way. The first thing the two Mavericks heard was the tapping of metal claws on a metal floor. Behind it were the heavy footsteps of a running Reploid.

            "What is it?" Gredam asked, converting his rifle to the grenade launcher and approaching the hallway.

            "One of the wolf sentries," Malevex discerned, also peeking out into the corridor. "And—"

            "And what? What's it running away from?" Gredam turned to see why Malevex wasn't answering—his friend was staring down the hallway like a cow looking at an oncoming train. As soon as Gredam saw who it was, his shoulder armor slid back to reveal the missile pods and his eyes burned with rage. "Come on, you wretch," he whispered.

            "Come and get what you deserve."

            Mega Man X had seen some strange things in his life. He'd seen an ostrich take over a military base. He'd seen a penguin in the northern hemisphere. He'd even seen a sponge take over the weather. But nothing could have prepared him for Zero showing mercy to Mavericks.

            For as long as X could remember, Zero had been the belligerent one. He'd always been looking for a fight, whether to do his job or to just have fun. He'd lectured X time and time again about the thrills of combat when X himself was content to think of combat as a horrible thing. Now here he was, turning loose some of the most dangerous Mavericks to date—including a man he'd chased since Mea's death all those years ago—all because of…what? X didn't understand Zero's change of heart. He assumed it had something to do with Colonel and Iris, but for the life of him he couldn't think how Zero had linked the noble Repliforce officer and his innocent sister to nuclear terrorists.

            Nevertheless, X had to admit that there was no choice for him but to support his friend. Zero may have been erratic, but he was as well known for his practicality as X was known—perhaps unfairly—for naiveté. Zero had a reason for this, and X would stand by him. It meant a lot to him, from the looks of things, and X couldn't rightly just disregard a sentiment from the man who'd been willing to die in his place in Sigma's first fortress years ago.

            But that didn't stop him from being angry.

            Everything was a big mess now. He'd come here to destroy the Maverick bosses and tear down Seraph Castle. He didn't know how Delates was doing—he couldn't communicate with them, probably because of some trick of Sigma's—but his own objective was getting considerably more difficult. Now he wasn't allowed to kill the Maverick bosses? Well what was he supposed to do?

            The answer revealed itself in the form of a wolf sentry. The small but ridiculously fast mechaniloid leapt out at X from behind a corner, scaring the bejesus out of the Hunter and rewarding his lack of vigilance with a gash on the arm. Frowning, X boosted himself to the side of the room and opened fire on the wolf, which darted out of the line of fire as soon as it realized it was in danger. Sighing, X came to the conclusion that try as he might, he would have to use some practicality here too. He couldn't just sit around and wave peace signs if people were shooting at him—that was foolish and suicidal. He had to fight back, though perhaps not as vigorously as any other time.

            Knowing that he was near his destination, X darted after the wolf, unwilling to let it alert anyone guarding the Marauder garage. His buster cannon began to charge, and he darted around the corner into a long hallway with two exits in sight, one to the left and one on the right—

            —And from the right door there came a plume of fire and smoke that crashed into the wall next to X's head.

            The Azure Hunter tumbled onto the ground with a yelp. Ahead of him, the wolf yelped as well when it realized that one of its front legs was gone. From the same doorway there came a sword-wielding Maverick in black armor, who leapt clear over X's head and came down behind him. X rolled himself hard to the left to avoid the Maverick's downward strike and came to his feet with his right leg extended, catching the Maverick's wrist. Before X could make this mean anything another grenade crashed into the floor nearby, pelting him with shrapnel and…doing nothing to the swordsman, who somehow wasn't there anymore.

            "All right," X growled, his blaster fully charged. "Let's have it, then!"

            "As you wish," a cold voice whispered behind him. X didn't even look, and dashed forward away from the blade that came swiping at his back. He turned and prepared to destroy the Maverick, which was when he noticed the dark purple suit he wore underneath his armor. That color combination…it was…

            "Malevex!" he exclaimed. "God _dammit_!" He immediately downgraded his buster charge one level. He had to get the hell out of here as soon as possible, or things could get bloody…for all of them.

            "Flank!" the other Maverick, a well-built commando shouted to his comrade. "You know the drill!"

            _You must be Gredam_, X thought as he beheld Sigma's second-in-command for the first time. As he did so, he caught sight of the missile pods in Gredam's shoulders and the grenade launcher in his hands. _Shit._ At the same time, Malevex darted to the left hallway entrance and took on a defensive stance. Coils of fire began to snake around his person…fire that was inexplicably black. _Mega shit._

            Without a word, both Mavericks attacked at once. Thundering explosions rocked the hallway as Gredam let loose with all his firepower. Malevex stepped forward and slashed his sword once, sending a wave of that eerie Dark Fire flying X's way. _Great repulsive heaps of donkey shit._

            His mind turned to mush by the explosions, X knew he had no choice but to incapacitate at least one of his opponents. He held his breath and threw himself into a forward roll, barreling through the flames and shrapnel, rising right in front of Gredam, who immediately switched his launcher to its rifle function. "You bastard!" the Maverick roared, opening fire. "We'll take you with us!"

            "No one's going anywhere!" X shouted back, and fired his shot.

            Gredam had been advancing when the shot was launched; he stopped and was jerked backwards. It was though he'd been punched hard in the chest…his actual chest, not his armor. He realized what that implied when he saw, in slow motion, the scattered fragments of his protection flying through the air…intermingled with drops of blood. Weakened by the bout with Chartreuse, the armor had been no match for a point blank X-Buster shot, even one that wasn't at full charge. The Maverick choked on something; it annoyed him, because he was still trying to attack. He continued to squeeze off rounds, but he realized that they were going all over the place. Why couldn't he aim? He was a stellar shot. He tasted something, and then realized what he was choking on: blood.

            "_Gredam_!" Malevex cried, his eyes fixed on the gaping hole in his best friend's chest.

            "Oh, that is such _bullshit_!" X protested, a sick look coming onto his face.

            A bubble of blood spurted out of Gredam's mouth, and the Maverick, his eyes glazing over, collapsed against the wall, sinking down to the floor. His chest was wide open, sparking and bleeding profusely. His generator hadn't been destroyed but it had been broken—his life energy was seeping out slowly, rather than in one explosive burst. His rifle clattered to the ground next to him, and that was when the shit X had been thinking about hit the fan.

            "Oh, you _bastard_!" Malevex exploded, and before X even knew what was happening the Maverick had sprung like a wild animal, cleaving gashes into X's already damaged armor. "You _monster_! You killed them _all_!"

            "All? Hey, wait a minute! You've got it all—whoaaaa!" He threw himself to the side, landing badly on the ground as Malevex's sword crashed into the wall. "I didn't mean to…you have to calm down, the others are ok!" It became clear to X that reason was not going to work when he saw the Dark Fire cover Malevex again. It grew into a cloak of sorts around him…and grew, and grew, and grew. "Jesus Christ," X breathed, snapping to his feet and scanning quickly for an exit—the left hallway. He diverted all his energy to his Emergency Acceleration System, forgetting about the safety levels, and just bolted away from the flaming demon.

            "You can't get away," Malevex promised his fleeing foe, his eyes blazing as brightly as his aura.

            "Malevex," Gredam choked out. His voice shattered Malevex's cloud of frenzy in an instant. The curtain of fiery energies extinguished with almost comical speed and the Maverick dropped his sword, rushing over to his stricken friend.

            "Gredam," he said as he kneeled down, examining the wound. His stomach convulsed, and if he could have retched he would have. It wasn't that the wound was all that gruesome…it was the concept of what was happening that was worse than anything even Terrornova had done to him. "Hang on, Gredam, you've gotta hang on…"

            "To what?" the Maverick asked weakly. "No…I think this is it…" He coughed again, leaning his head back against the wall. It was a curious sentence, the one he'd just spoken aloud. He had never suspected the opportunity to say it would ever come. After spending his life just trying to remain alive, the concept of death was…it was just too unreal. But at the same time he knew it was here, and for the first time in a long time his mind was free—free of all schemes, free of all vengeful desires, free of all pain…everything was laid bare before him. He looked up into Malevex's disbelieving face, and realized sadly that there was much to be done…and he didn't think Malevex could handle it. But there was no choice, was there? Things had to be said. "Malevex…it's over…I don't want to be revived."

            "What?" His spirits died completely as his last shred of hope was torn. "It doesn't have to be over—"

            "But it is." Gredam shook his head, now aware of the pain. He gritted his teeth and continued, however. He could hardly do anything else. "We've been soldiers all our lives. You at least have been able to find some happiness in life with Teytha…but I…I had nothing but my anger." The pain was severe now, and he winced despite himself.

            "Take it easy," Malevex ordered, sitting Gredam in a less haphazard position. "Don't waste your strength."

            "Oh, why the hell not?" He grinned without much humor. "Listen…to me. This life…isn't about fighting. It's about everything else…everything I never bothered to look for. You…you still have…a chance. You…can live…"

            "For what?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice under control. "She's gone, Gredam…she's dead and so is Mortar, and now…" His head snapped away. "I…there's nothing left for me to live for. Only to die for…"

            The pain was gone. Gredam noticed it and knew what that suggested—his time was almost up. He used his force of will to make what remained of his energy enough to raise his arms and clamp them on Malevex's shoulders, forcing his friend to look right at him. "If you die…then your death better be worthwhile."

            "You mean vengeance?" He frowned. "Didn't you just say it wasn't about anger…?"

            "I don't know…what I said." His breathing grew coarse and heavy. "You've lived…through hell. Do yourself a favor and…" His eyes bored holes into Malevex's skull. "…Die satisfied."

            Malevex absorbed this quietly. When he sensed Gredam weakening he lowered his friend back against the wall. Gredam sucked in a few more breaths. They would have to do. He opened his eyes once more and said the hardest words of his life. "Malevex…it was Chartreuse. He's responsible for this." He met his comrade's eyes one last time. "You know…what you have to do."

            "No," Malevex protested, the sickness in his stomach growing. "Not that…"

            "It is…the duty…" Gredam ordered in a wheeze, "…of the assassins. Find the others…and…deliver them." Exhausted, the Maverick slumped over, his eyes closing. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I was your commander, and I…failed."

            "No." Malevex shook him by the shoulders. "You're wrong…don't think that, dammit! Gredam! _Gredam_!"

            There was no answer. Gredam of Terrornova had gone to join his comrades at last. His mission was over.

            For a very long time, Malevex just kneeled there and stared at his best friend's corpse. As he did so, the pillars supporting his already fragile mind began to collapse one by one. Teytha…Mortar…and Gredam. All vanquished by the Maverick Hunters, the tools of the humans, after the scene had been set by Chartreuse, the fiend who'd started it all. Every ally Malevex had ever known had been systematically eliminated. His closest comrades were dead, after all their promising dreams of freedom. He had no idea where Diavus, his business associate, was or if he was still alive. In fact, Malevex could only think of one comrade in the world…

            …Sigma.

            But this did not involve Sigma, he told himself as he rose to his feet. This involved the Hunters…X, that monster, that blue devil in white armor, the destroyer of all Malevex had worked to create. But as guilty as X was, Zero was infinitely guiltier, because the blood on his hands was the most precious to Malevex. Teytha would be avenged…as all the others would be avenged.

            "Die satisfied," Gredam's voice repeated in his mind.

            "But not yet," he whispered, staring at the rifle next to his fallen friend. With hands that did not shake, he gripped the rifle and stood with legs that did not wobble. He stepped backward with paces that were methodical and calm, and when he was a safe distance back he looked at Gredam with a face that was devoid of any emotion. Behind it all, his mind was frozen in place. Everything else was overpowered by one command: duty.

            In the days of Terrornova, suicide was always a threat to the commanders. Rather than going through the ordeal of enslaving new Reploids, they would revive suicidal Reploids for the sole purpose of putting them to death in a more painful manner before all their comrades, thus discouraging the concept of suicide altogether. Chartreuse was also rumored to have revived some assassins and even regular Reploids and squirreled them away to his own undisclosed locations, and no one had ever wanted to think about what happened to those unlucky few. To counteract this, the assassins had adopted the practice of destroying the bodies of downed comrades, specifically eliminating the control chips so a revival was impossible. This horrendous duty was the hardest thing in the world to perform, but it had always been done and Malevex knew that it could not be avoided now. More importantly, Gredam had requested it, and he could not disregard his friend's final wish.

            Malevex raised Gredam's rifle and switched to the secondary grenade launcher function. There were three rounds left. That would do. Malevex focused on Gredam's head, where the control chip had to be. This was where his hands began to shake and his legs wobble. His brain contorted and fought violently against what the body was about to do, but Malevex's sense of duty prevailed, and he pulled the trigger…and he pulled it again, and again, and again and again and again even though only three shots were left. When the smoke cleared there was nothing left of Gredam's form except a jumbled pile of charred parts. The former Maverick was unrecognizable, by some kind act of fate, and his control chip was certainly gone. So there it was then—Gredam was officially and forever dead.

            A single tear rolled down Malevex's cheek, but he made no sound to accompany it. No other tears followed it. Instead of depression, a cloud of anger began to envelop the dark Maverick. His body took on an outline that could best be described as neon black, and around him his mysterious fire burned freely once more. The voices of vengeance returned to his shattered mind.

            _They are dead._

_            Murdered._

_            Butchered._

"Murdered," Malevex whispered his agreement.

            _The murderers are here._

_            They must die._

_            Must scream._

_            Must burn._

"Must burn," Malevex said, and his voice had totally changed—it was a cold whisper that seemed not to come from his lips but from the walls around him. It was an echo, but if anyone heard it they'd have to describe it as a whisper echoing off its source, odd as it may have seemed. They would also have noticed that while the fire around Malevex was growing brighter and brighter…the hallway was growing darker and darker.

            "You can't run," he said, turning to face the hallway X had used to escape. It led to the third ring. "Not from me." Without moving his eyes from the path, Malevex raised Gredam's rifle and switched to single fire. The rifle had a scope, and that was all Malevex needed—he had been his unit's best sniper.

            "Mega Man X…and Zero. Your power levels…surpass the acceptable level. You are a threat to society." A blinding black flare exploded from Malevex, and just like that all the lights on the floor went out.

            "Terrornova is coming for you."

            Zero bolted down the darkened hallways of the third ring, his infrared on and his mind alert. He kept his lightsaber in its sheath for fear that running around with a weapon wouldn't look good if he did encounter Malevex. He hadn't gotten any reports from X—probably Sigma's fault—but he assumed that Malevex was still in the area. He also couldn't help but wonder what that rumbling had been about. He'd have to ask X later, he supposed.

            In the meantime, he admitted that he was sufficiently creeped out by the total lack of security forces in the third ring. Typically the third ring was the most guarded one, since it was all that remained before the core of a fortress built in the four-ring fashion. This time, however, absolutely nothing stood in Zero's way except the darkness and the walls. Infrared didn't help him see the said walls, since they gave off no heat, and he ran into more than one of them.

            His running came to an abrupt halt when he sensed another presence in the area. It was nothing he could explain…it was just a battle sense he'd developed after years of war. Someone was there…even though Zero didn't see anyone at all.

            But he didn't have all that long to wait before the presence identified itself.

            "Ha ha ha…Zero…so you managed to escape."

            Zero went ramrod straight, and he did draw his lightsaber. "Sigma."

            "Oh, put that away," the Maverick King's voice ordered. "We're not going to fight, you and I. We're just going to talk."

            "Like hell we are," Zero spat. "You're going down, Sigma. Right here."

            "Heh heh heh…oh, I'm sure you think so. You always think so. But you're always wrong." His laughter grew a bit more sadistic. "Doubly so this time, I'm afraid…heheheh…"

            "Say it to my face, you big giggling freak."

            "Hold your horses. We'll meet again, Son of Wily. But not today."

            "You're not leaving this fortress alive!" Zero declared.

            "In case you've forgotten," Sigma's scathing voice reminded him, "your efforts are slightly divided. On one hand, you want to play the knight in shining armor, taking the Terrornova group from the hands of death. On the other hand, you want to be the angel of death, striking me down once and for all." He chuckled. "You can't do both, Zero. You'll have to throw your efforts one way or another to accomplish anything." He started laughing again, and this time it was really harsh. "But, unfortunately, that choice has already been made for you!

            "You bastard," Zero whispered. "What did you _do_?"

            "Nothing!" Sigma positively shrieked with laughter. "That's the beauty of it! The best part! I didn't have to do a goddamned thing! X did all the work for me!"

            Zero was standing still, but it was like he'd run into another wall. "Oh, God…"

            "God!" Sigma scoffed. "Who are you to call on God? We're above that, Zero! We are Reploids!"

            "You'd better hope that's the truth," Zero growled. "Because that's the only way you're gonna escape Hell!"

            "Then at least I can content myself with the knowledge that you'll be there with me."

            "At least I'm fighting against it!"

            "Ha!" Sigma laughed richly. "And won't that be something to see! Heheheh…it won't be long now, Zero. He's coming. Those four always were punctual. Yes…I'd have to say they were my most useful pawns. Excluding Repliforce, of course. They're the chump champs."

            "You son of a bitch!" Zero roared. "You use _everyone_! And you still call yourself a revolutionary?!" He spat on a nearby wall and glared indignantly at the darkness. "No, you're no revolutionary. You're not even worthy of being called a terrorist. You're just a computer glitch…just a lousy, insignificant _error_!"

            "Maybe," the Virus hissed from within its host. "But always remember, Zero—you're the one who brought me here. You introduced me to this world, and to this body…and for that I am grateful. Soon, you'll embrace me once more. I am your past, present and future…the final legacy of Albert Wily!"

            "That's what you say," Zero challenged. "But I can defeat you. I've already proven that. Now, I'm going to finish the job, whether you like it or not."

            The Virus chuckled. "And I thought X was supposed to be the naïve one. Well, go ahead and try. It's only more entertainment for me, after all. Yes…I think I'll stay after all. I wouldn't miss this show for the world!"

            Zero didn't give Sigma the dignity of a response. Soon enough, he sensed that Sigma's presence had retreated, wherever it had been. But there was something else in its place…something not quite right.

            A second later, the wall near his head exploded as a round from an unseen sniper found its mark.

            "Shit!" Zero exclaimed, darting out of the way. He looked ahead with his infrared, but saw absolutely nothing. "What the hell?" He darted around the corner where the shot had come from, prepared to duck, but he saw nothing. It was a long hall, but Zero's infrared could certainly reach all the way. Then another shot came, missing Zero's head only by inches. The Hunter cursed himself and broke into a roll, rushing to the other end of the hall and looking round the corner to behold—nothing.

            _Malevex_, he determined, remembering Sigma's words. But if it was indeed Malevex…well, Zero knew from experience that Malevex was the kind of sniper that did not miss. Those were two misses, though… _Jesus,_ Zero realized. _He's _messing _with me!_ That was a very bad sign. If Malevex was feeling sadistic enough to freak Zero out before killing him, that meant something big had happened. Could Sigma have done what they'd feared and told him Teytha and Mortar were dead? If so, Zero had a lot of work to do.

            Another crack rang out, and Zero cried out as his arm began to sting. He jerked it up and beheld a slice on his upper arm, guarded by a suit and not armor. Yes, he was _definitely _being messed with. That meant negotiations were useless at distance. Zero sprang into action, deactivating his sword and sheathing it while racing down the hallway towards the sound of the blast. "Malevex!" he roared, hoping to catch the Maverick before he could line up another shot. "You're making a mistake! You—_MOTHERFff…grrrah!"_ He'd run into another wall.

            For a while he just sat on his ass, dazed. "You hear me?" he called out again. "Look! I'm unarmed, dammit! I don't want a fight!"

            His response was a whole lot of nothing. Officially nervous, Zero slowly pulled himself to his feet. "Malevex," he tried again. "They're alive. I don't care what Sigma's been telling you. They're alive."

            And that got a response—from the distant right, Zero heard the faintest echo of a laugh. Zero bolted in that direction, holding his hands out in front him just in case any more walls decided to sneak up on him. The laughter got louder, and Zero came closer. Finally he came to a corner where he could see the faintest flicker of…light. Yes, there was light of some sort round this bend. Zero didn't draw his sword, but he made sure it was within his reach. The light danced and glowed dully…like the reflection of fire. Zero took a deep breath, and spun around the corner.

            "YAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

            "WHOA!" Zero exclaimed, jumping back and drawing his blade on impulse. He immediately damned himself for the act and looked up, prepared to meet Malevex's accusatory glare.

            But…that guy lying on the floor there wasn't Malevex at all.

            "Please," he begged, scampering away. He wore red armor, and Zero noticed a frightened look in his eyes. "Please don't kill me!"

            "Who the hell are you?" Zero demanded, holding out his saber and allowing himself to breathe. "What the hell are you doing here?"

            "I…I'm Arson," the Reploid said with a shiver, despite the warm aura of fire that danced around him. "You have to go."

            "I have to go?" Zero asked skeptically. It was then that he noticed the way Arson's armor seemed charred at the edges, and even a little melted. There was blood on his face, too. "What happened to you, pal? Speak quickly. I haven't got time for this."

            "You have to _go_!" Arson declared, rearing up on his hind legs. "He's still here!"

            "Who's still here?" Zero asked, lowering his weapon. "Malevex?"

            "Go," Arson ordered, getting shakily to his feet. Something had scared this guy shitless. "I've never seen…anything like…" He broke it off and shook his head. "S…sorry. I'm not that hurt, but…damn, man…"

            "Oh, boy." Coils of dread ensnared Zero's stomach. "When did this happen? How long ago?" The Maverick just stared blankly. "Arson? You there?"

            Instead of answering, Arson stared at something over Zero's shoulder. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head and without explanation he turned and raced down the next hallway.

            Zero spun around sharply and threw himself down at the same time, waiting for the crack of the sniper's rifle. It never came. "God dammit!" Zero grumbled, snapping back up to his feet and racing around the corner. "Come out! You don't know what you're doing! You—" He stopped again and froze as the rifle did fire…behind him. "Oh, hell no." Disbelieving, the Hunter turned and started haltingly back towards the hallway Arson had fled down. He stood there without entering for a second or two, scanning for some sign of life but finding none. The coils of dread tightened. _Please_, he thought, _please tell me he isn't killing his own soldiers. If he is, then he's gone…and he isn't coming back._

            The hallway was longer than the others, but just as dark. Zero didn't see Arson's glow anywhere, nor did he pick up any signs of a Reploid. That disturbed him. Malevex had to be shooting from _somewhere_. Why couldn't he pick him up?

            Zero arrived unexpectedly at the end of the hallway…and Arson was nowhere to be found. Was that good or bad? The Hunter stared down the hall as though daring Malevex to shoot him. "So that's it, then?" he called out in challenge. "You terrify your own soldiers now? You've sunk that far? You and your great cause?"

            His response was a three-round burst from the end of the hallway. The bullets lodged themselves in the wall nearby, and Zero, now enraged, raced down the hallway, sheathing his sword despite his mind's urgings. _No,_ he asserted. _I can't fight. I won't do that again. Not when I'm this close…_

            And this time he was really freaked out, because the hallway ended with a wall. "What…the _hell_?!" Malevex had fired straight at him—he _had _to be here. There was nowhere else to _be_!Finally feeling the weight of desperation, Zero slumped against the corner of the wall, staring blankly ahead of him. "Stop this," he pleaded. "They're alive, dammit! I went through hell to make sure they were alive! I can't kill you. Don't you get it?"

            Then there came the most bone-chilling spectacle of the chase so far. A voice found Zero, a cold whisper that let him know exactly what his conversation partner thought of him. The chilling part was that the voice did not come from any one direction—it seemed to come from all walls at once. Was this a Terrornova scare tactic? If so it was effective as hell, Zero confessed. The words further deflated his hopes for a peaceful solution.

            "You're a very good actor, Hunter…but the show's over."

            "It's not an act!" he retorted. "They're_ alive_! Teytha and Mortar are _out there_! Why don't you understand? _You're free to go_!"

            The shadows emitted a rich, amused laugh. "Stop. This is too pitiful…it's not you at all. Why don't you just draw your sword and die like a man?" He got no response, and so continued. "Just Teytha and Mortar, eh? What's the matter, Zero? Gredam's not as important to you? We're all terrorists, but we're okay because we didn't actually drop the bomb. Gredam, though, he's expendable. Is that it? Is that how you think now?"

            "Gredam…" Zero refused to let himself understand. "He's no less important!"

            "You insolent _bastard_!" The darkness, enraged, actually managed to make a whisper sound like a bellow. Three holes exploded around Zero, one above him and one to both sides, provoking three startled jumps. "I was there, you stupid jackass! I watched it happen!"

            "What?" Zero finally asked, doubly bewildered by this mystery as well as the mystery of why he couldn't see, even in infrared, the man who had just shot at him from an angle that would put him directly in front of Zero's eyes. "What happened?"  
            Malevex was silent. Something had attracted his attention. "Poor boy. You were late to the show, weren't you?"

            Zero's eyes widened as he beheld a startling feat. The shadows hugging the nearby walls began to dance and glow, which struck Zero as odd because darkness was supposed to be the absence of light. Yet this darkness was getting brighter, for lack of better explanation. It reminded Zero of Arson's fire, only dyed black. What in the world?

            "Go on," Malevex offered. "Why don't you ask Contestant Number One? Then we can have the Grand Prize Game."

            Zero finally noticed that the fire led to a gap in the center of the hall—a fork that he'd missed earlier. Apprehensively he started towards it, not bothering to talk to his stalker, who remained silent even though Zero could still feel his unnerving presence. What the hell kind of witchcraft was that bastard using to make himself invisible even to infrared?

            The halls were lined with that black fire, but as far as Zero could tell they were still just hallways. The third ring was a labyrinth. Even if he survived this, Zero had no idea how he was going to find his way out. After a while the hallway opened out into an actual room, a large, cluttered area lined with computers. Zero had been in enough fortresses to know that he'd just stumbled upon a command center.

            And there was someone there.

            "Hold it!" Zero shouted, coiling for a tackle.

            "Freeze!" the other one shouted in turn, aiming a gun. Zero threw sprang up and over the plasma rocket and came down two feet away from his target, launching himself into his opponent's midsection and bringing them both to the ground.

            "…X?"

            "Zero? Get off me, you asshole!"

            Zero just stared at his pinned partner. Then he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him madly. "What the hell did you _do_?"

            "I couldn't help it!" X protested, violently twisting out of Zero's grip. "I used a low power blast, but his armor…I didn't know his armor was for shit!"

            "Shit…oh, shit…" Zero careened backwards, his fears confirmed as he remembered Malevex's words. "It was Gredam, wasn't it? He's dead, isn't he?"

            "I…" X got even more frustrated than he already was. "What the hell was I supposed to do?" he exploded, getting to his feet. "They double teamed me, Zero! I had grenades tearing up the walls and fire tearing up my feet! Should I have stood there and died?"

            Zero, unable to fight that logic, just spun around and punched a hole through a nearby monitor. The sparks that flew provided flashes of light that illuminated the room for half seconds. Zero watched it to let his temper cool, paying notice to the shadows the brief lights cast. There were so many objects in the room, casting so many varieties of shadows…

            …But none were able to cast the humanoid shadow that appeared after the sixth flash.

            "X!" Zero finally managed to say. "Get _down_!"

            "What?" X asked irritably, just before the rifle fired. He screamed as the adaman bullet tore a hole clear through his armored right forearm, and he crumpled to the floor both out of pain and precautionary measures.

            "Malevex!" Zero shouted, drawing his weapon. He felt he had little choice. "Where the hell are you?"

            "Violent bloody incidents, our victims wrought with fear

            Despite it all, no evidence, for we were never here."

            The darkness finished its whispered chant with a cold, harsh laugh. "That was our anthem. Did you like it?"

            "Where is he?" X said through teeth clenched in pain. His eyes were wide, because his infrared wasn't picking anything up. "He's gotta be in this room…but I can't see him anywhere!"

            "The infrared doesn't pick him up," Zero agreed, feeling sick.

            "What kind of technology is this?" X wondered aloud, pulling himself to his feet.

            "Oh come on," the darkness taunted them. "Your government hasn't shown you this toy yet? Ha! Well of course not. Your government keeps a lot of things from you, don't they?" The whispers turned into laughter again. "Terrornova was just the tip of the iceberg."

            "What do you mean?" Zero asked, but this time there was no answer.

            "He's gone," X said, stepping forward and clutching his bleeding arm. "I can just—"

            "Feel it," Zero finished. He glanced at his partner. "How bad is it?"

            "It's fine," X shook his head dismissively. "Hurts like a bitch, and I dunno how useful the arm'll be, but…it's not my buster arm, and that's all that matters." He stole a glance at Zero's face, reading it like a book. "Zero…come on, you don't seriously still want to—"

            "You're damn right I do," Zero retorted, still irritated. "Even if Gredam's down, the other two…if they lose both Gredam and Malevex, what was the point of saving them in the first place?"

            "That's a good question," X grumped. "Care to explain?"

            A door in the back of the room slid open.

            Zero stared down it, knowing his infrared was useless but using it anyway. "I will. But not now." He started for the doorway.

            "Zero, wait!" X called after him. "Don't you see what he's doing? He's baiting you into a trap. He'll—"

            "I know what he's doing!" Zero silenced his partner without turning around. "But that doesn't change anything." He tilted his head very slightly behind him. "If you don't want a part of this, I understand…get out before he finds you."

            "That's bullshit and you know it," X countered, forcing himself to follow his friend. "We're sitting ducks alone in this place, and if he does fight you, you'll need backup—"

            "I won't be fighting him to kill—"

            "—_doubly _so if you want to go through with this harebrained scheme. Keeping someone alive is a lot harder than keeping them dead…unless, of course, it's Sigma we're talking about."

            Zero let his emotions out in a breath. He knew how true that was. "All right. But please, X…this here is important for me."

            "I don't get it, but…I won't question it." He moved the fingers on his right arm, relieved to see that they still worked. His nanomachines were working overtime, partially because of the Fourth Armor helmet system. "I…really wasn't trying to kill Gredam. It just happened that way."

            "I don't get it, but…" Zero accepted it, turning towards the door, "I won't question it."

            The two Hunters started cautiously through the door, which despite their expectations did not slam shut behind them. They both noticed the fire lining the walls, and Zero saw X shiver at the sight. This hallway was longer than any other so far, and throughout the walk there was no sign of their would-be assassin. The hall emptied out into a large, round room lined with tall steel wall units, which upon closer inspection turned out to contain weapons. At the center of the room there was a rather spooky sight—a circle of the floor was painted white, and above this section there was a tiny circular window on the ceiling. Neither Hunter knew how bad the snowstorm was now, but it looked like moonlight was indeed passing through the window, vaguely illuminating the center of the chamber. All in all it was a thoroughly haunting place.

            "I think this is the armory," X said, just to break the thick silence.

            Zero said nothing. He didn't feel Malevex's eyes on him, but there still wasn't something right about this place. "What's in here?" he asked the darkness. "How much longer are we going to play these games?" He got no answer.

            "Zero," X piped up, looking around nervously and arming his buster. "There's something…"

            A second later and Zero would have died. The Hunter felt the air behind him shift ever so slightly, but it was enough to drive his ultra-alert senses into hyperdrive. He threw himself forward and on his face just as something swiped through the air where he'd been. Zero couldn't see the weapon but he could sure as hell hear it—it was a lightsaber.

            "Watch it!" X warned, firing off level one shots rapidly, trying to score a hit just to see where his enemy was. The invisible Maverick was unscathed, but X heard him moving, and unlike Zero he rushed the Maverick, firing his cannon all the while. Zero came up suddenly from the floor, inadvertently tripping Malevex, who flew into X. All three scrambled back to their feet, and X quickly looked down to where he knew the Maverick had to be, seeing… "That's it!" He exclaimed, leaping backwards. "Watch the shadows, Zero!"

            "The fire," Zero realized, seeing the dancing darkness that signified Malevex's position. The Maverick himself stood his ground, shaking with laughter that this time had a voice to it, coming from one spot rather than all around.

            "So you finally figured it out." He back-flipped into obscurity and both Hunters tried to pinpoint his new location. Before long Zero heard the lightsaber's hum change, indicating a swing. He swung out his own saber, miraculously making contact with the enemy's blade and driving him back. But when Zero tried to advance upon his target, he wasn't there anymore. "Give it up," Malevex taunted. "Even your infrared can't do the job."

            "Maybe not," X piped up from across the armory, his armor now purple. "But what about an Aiming Laser or two?"

            Both Hunters heard the sound of boots racing across the floor. A target box appeared on X's targeting grid that, thankfully, showed him what infrared would not. The Maverick was running in a circle around the room's perimeter…and he'd just turned to rush in at X. The Hunter fired off his wide, multicolored laser, and the results were very interesting. A wild array of light and colors emanated from Malevex's position, and a few blurry moments later the Maverick was in plain sight…though that didn't help them much. Malevex's armor was black as night.

            "Neat trick," the Maverick allowed, and without missing a beat surrounded himself with a curtain of his Dark Fire. "But I've got a better one." The Maverick dashed like the meteor from Hell, a blazing black fireball that X could only avoid by turning on his own thrusters and dashing for his life. Malevex missed, but a collision wasn't his intention. He lashed out with his saber, scarring X's right flank. The Hunter let out a cry as his side burned with pain—and it also burned in the literal sense. He frantically extinguished the fire, which had begun to creep up from the wound onto the rest of his body.

            Zero leapt into the air and let his boot thrusters close the distance between him and Malevex, coming down with a heavy strike. Malevex, quick as hell, spun around to counter it, parrying the blow and applying a combo of his own. Zero met every strike, but soon it became apparent that he wasn't trying to include any attacks of his own.

            "Don't want to play?" Malevex asked, propelling himself backwards. "Fine by me." He twisted around like a pitcher winding up to throw and then snapped his fist forward. From it sprang a geyser of darkness that struck Zero square in the chest. The Dark Fire began to cover him as it had covered X, like a parasite spreading out to investigate its new host. Zero found that while he fought the blistering energy, rolling on the ground like a pig in mud, he couldn't concentrate on anything else.

            "You son of a bitch!" X thundered, unloading on Malevex with normal shots.

            "Please!" Malevex laughed rather diabolically, flipping backwards away from the shots. "Even if you hit me, do you really think a crappy level one shot is the least bit useful?" He laughed again and shook his head, fixing X with a cold stare. "You don't have any balls at all, do you?"

            "You stupid bastard," X growled, holding his temper in check. "We don't need to be having this battle. We're trying to save you people!"

            "Just like you saved Gredam?" Malevex inquired innocently. "I'm not sure I want to be saved, then. And what about the other two, hmm? How safe are _they_?"

            "Very safe," Zero coughed from his position on the floor, struggling with all his might to stand up and break the chains of fire. "At…at Triangle Rock!"

            "Triangle…" Something flickered in Malevex's eyes, but quickly vanished. "You could have picked that up anywhere."

            Zero stood up straight and with a cry shook off the final embers. He gasped for breath, feeling drained, but there was now a shred of hope—he'd seen the brief look in Malevex's eyes. No longer were they frenzied and malicious, but instead there had been a spark of the assassin's own hope. For an instant he'd dared to believe that Zero was telling the truth, and his emotions had then canceled the feeling out. But it was enough. Zero could work with this. He had to. _This can't fall apart now._

            "Listen to him," X insisted. "I didn't mean to kill Gredam."

            "Oh, isn't that a likely excuse!" The Maverick glowered at the Hunter. "You didn't mean to. That just makes everything better, doesn't it? Well, screw that!" He chuckled. "It's been a long life. What's one more duel going to hurt, hmm?" He saw how much it tortured them when he said that, and though he didn't understand it—his frenzy prevented any understanding—he kept it up because he knew it hurt them. Those bastards really would pay. Malevex grinned and back-flipped on top of one of the wall units, fixing the Hunters with a malicious look. "You like special attacks, don't you? Here!" He leapt into the air, and his own thrusters activated, keeping him hovering in place in the center of the armory, his armor appearing to be a ghostly color as the moonlight lit it up. X and Zero both backed away, voicing their protests and pleas but thus only encouraging their foe.

            Malevex started spinning like a top, and threw out three blasts of Dark Fire that landed on the floor in a triangular pattern around him. More fire began to cluster around them—and around Malevex himself—and the Hunters found themselves unhappily caught in the center. Powered up, laughing, and enjoying himself immensely, the revenge-thirsty Maverick thrust his arms out and pillars of fire erupted from the burning floor points. "Eat your hearts out!" Malevex shouted as the trio of infernos began to rotate in a circular pattern. "_TRIPLE NOVA_!"

            "Run," both Hunters said pathetically and in unison.

            Triple pillars of black fire encircled the Hunters, spinning rapidly and closing the distance to the wildly burning Malevex. The Hunters did run, but it was impossible to take evasive action. They threw themselves through the revolving door of fire, both of them scathed and thrown to different corners of the room. This was probably best. When the three columns smashed together into Malevex, a blinding column of violent energies resulted that consumed the whole central chamber.

            X pulled himself to his feet, charred and woozy. "Where is he?" he asked aloud, staring at the spot where Malevex had just been. Zero, too, rose to his feet in great pain, his saber shaking in his hands. The two wandered into the center of the room, underneath the ray of moonlight, both ready for almost anything.

            They weren't ready for two wall units on each side of the room falling over at the same time.

            "What the _hell_?" the Hunters both exclaimed, unsure of which way to look first. Then a final unit fell and Malevex leapt out from behind it, crashing down between the Hunters and kicking Zero hard in the side. The Hunter dropped like a sack of bricks. Malevex then lashed out at X with his lightsaber, which X now noticed was encased in the same Dark Fire that surrounded the Maverick himself. X prepared to attack, but hesitated because he didn't know what to use that wasn't fatal. Malevex capitalized on this and shot a large bolt of Dark Fire into X's chest, ensnaring him in the same cage Zero had worked to get out of. "Take a load off," Malevex suggested coldly, turning to Zero.

            He was too late. Zero rushed him with a hard elbow that found its mark. Malevex staggered backwards but immediately launched into his counterattack, meeting Zero slash for slash. Both swordsmen were impressed with their adversary's skills, but Malevex couldn't help but notice that Zero again would not use any attacks. He would only parry. "God dammit! _Fight_!"

            "No," Zero retorted loudly, sensing a chance. "I won't! This is foolish!"

            "Foolish! You killed them! It was your job! And now I'll kill you!"

            "NO!" Zero shouted, and the force of his voice actually stopped Malevex cold. "Teytha and Mortar are alive! We saved them!"

            "SAVED them, did you? And just who did they need saving from?" Malevex rushed him before he could answer, his blazing sword sizzling and clanging against Zero's own weapon. "God DAMN you!" The frustrated Maverick jumped clear over Zero, landing several feet away and turning with his sword pointed at his enemy. "Why won't you FIGHT?"

            "Because I can't kill you," Zero replied as calmly as he could, knowing it was working. Malevex's logic circuits couldn't handle the fact that despite all his efforts to kill Zero, the would-be victim would not be trying to do the same to him. It was holding the Maverick up, and that was Zero's one and only advantage. He had to use it well. "If I killed you it'd kill them too."

            "You…loony!"

            "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black," X rasped from the floor, fighting his way slowly but surely out of his fiery prison.

            "Make sense," Malevex ordered in a hiss, looking poised to strike but hesitating nonetheless.

            "Some things don't make sense," Zero said, going in for the kill. "Like Diceman."

            Malevex recoiled visibly. "What do you know about Diceman?" the remnants of his sanity asked.

            "Only what she told me," Zero said, approaching him slowly with his weapon lowered. "She was the only one who knew, wasn't she? I couldn't have just heard that anywhere, could I have?"

            "How did you learn that?" Malevex challenged, backing up and keeping his weapon pointed at Zero.

            "I needed proof, Malevex. That's my proof. She's alive…Teytha is alive. She's at Triangle Rock with Mortar, wherever that is. They said you'd know."

            "Wha…" He shook his head, glaring mistrustfully, though it was obvious that his mind was fighting hard to restore itself. "That's impossible…they died…their signals stopped…"  
            "Of course their signals stopped," Zero said stonily. "That's what Sigma wanted! To make you think that they were dead, so you'd go apeshit on us, like you are now!"

            "Sigma…_what_?" The possibility of Sigma betraying him was harder for Malevex to comprehend than Zero letting his comrades live, and it shattered most of the credulity Zero had established thus far.

            "Wait!" Zero pleaded, sensing his window of opportunity vanishing. "Don't you see? It makes perfect sense!" Malevex still advanced slowly, his sword ready for an attack. Zero played one last desperate card. "For Christ's sake, _why didn't they warp out like they planned to_?"

            Once more, Malevex stopped in his tracks.

            "Sigma sealed them in," Zero said, with forceful relief. "He locked them in with us, but I couldn't kill Teytha. I couldn't do it, Malevex. I let her go, and she showed me where to find Mortar. We broke up him and X and we sent them out of here, so Sigma couldn't get to them."

            "That's _impossible_!" Malevex insisted, though he was clearly wavering on the big choice. "Sigma…he couldn't…that's not how he _works_!"

            "That's EXACTLY how he works!" X shouted, getting shakily to his feet. "He finds a pawn and sacrifices them. THINK! What were the X-Hunters? Tools! What was Doppler? A pawn! What was Repliforce?" His eyes narrowed. "And now he used you."

            "Leave this place," Zero said, looking Malevex in the eyes. "Find your friends and go. We're not going to chase you. Leave the System. Get out of our sight. We'll report you as dead…it's all going to be over!" He took a deep breath and took the big gamble—he deactivated his saber and threw it across the room. "Malevex. Kill me."

            Both X and the Maverick in question drew sharp breaths. "You…you make no sense!" Malevex hissed, holding his saber to strike but not going through with it. "Why would you die over something as stupid as this? WHY?"

            "Because I'm sick of it all," Zero threw it right in the open. "I'm sick of killing people and having nightmares about it. That's why, in a nutshell. I can't kill you and live with myself." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm giving you everything you ever wanted, Malevex. I'm sorry about Gredam. But are you going to fight us to the death about it? What happens to her, then, Malevex? God dammit, I _promised _her I'd bring you back alive!"

            Malevex of Terrornova blinked very slowly, staring at Zero with absolute incredulity but unable to ignore the hope tugging at his mind. It was all so unbelievable…Sigma, his commander, was the villain, and Zero, his longtime enemy, was the hero? What the hell kind of shit was this? And what about X? The Blue Bomber had shown no hesitation when gunning down Gredam. Who was to say that he—well, Malevex admitted, he'd had plenty of time to shoot already, but he hadn't. And Diceman…how else could Zero have possibly known about him? Teytha had kept it a secret…she'd had to. Could they…could they _possibly_ be telling the truth? Then his practicality took over and asked the deciding question:

            _What can you possibly lose by at least looking into this?_

            "Malevex," Zero said after a while. "They're waiting."

            The assassin stared at Zero for half a minute longer. Then he gave the slightest nod either Hunter had ever seen and slowly lowered his sword. "Triangle Rock?" he whispered the question, still staring as though he expected Zero to jump out and cut his throat at any second.

            "Triangle Rock," Zero acknowledged, releasing a huge breath of relief.

            "Oh, don't make me **_PUKE_**!"

            A bolt of supercharged lightning erupted from the far corner of the room. It sped past the alarmed Zero and slashed across Malevex's chest. His saber clattered to the floor, and the stricken Maverick gave one cry before falling to the ground. He moved no more.

            "_NO_!" Zero thundered, scooping up his saber and spinning around with wild eyes.

            "_SIGMA_!" X shouted, immediately charging his buster to the maximum level.

            "Traitors!" Sigma shouted, his fingertips still crackling with energy. "Deserters!" He shook his fist at Malevex's body. "You joined us to fight and die for the Maverick cause! _And you shall_!" He turned to Zero, grinning madly, his shoulders twitching with laughter. "I told you, didn't I? You couldn't succeed. I _am _your past, present and future! _You cannot escape me_!"

            "You _MONSTER_!" Zero raged, speeding towards Sigma just as X fired his cannon. Both attacks met with thin air—Sigma had vanished. His voice still cackled loudly, though.

            "It's been fun as always, you two. But this round is over. I'll see you soon, though…very soon!"

            "DAMN YOU!" Zero screamed at him. "I'll meet you anywhere, Sigma! I'll kill you yet!"

            "That's the idea, Zero." Sigma chuckled as his voice faded. "You're such a good killer. Have fun breaking the news to Teytha and Mortar."

            "You son of a bitch," X whispered, frozen in place by shock. "You son of a bitch." All his animosity towards the Terrornova group had suddenly been supplanted by a colossal hatred for Sigma. He walked slowly to the seething Zero, deactivating his cannon and resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Sigma had done monstrous things before, but at least in the past he'd been selling out people who weren't really affiliated with him. Now he had begun sacrificing his own soldiers…was there any worse evil, in the case of a commander?

            "We can't let him go," Zero finally declared, standing up straight. He looked like a dead man, X noted sadly. The blonde Hunter turned his head slowly to look his partner in the eye. "We have to intercept him somehow."

            "Will it even make a difference?" X asked in a monotone. "He always comes back."

            "Then I'll kill him every time," Zero vowed. "He deserves nothing less."    

            "I think…I finally…agree with you, Zero…on something."

            "You son of a bitch," X whispered, again frozen in place by shock. "You son of a bitch."

            Zero turned around slowly, scarcely able to believe it. "No way…"

            "Give me…some credit," Malevex said with half a laugh, on one knee and leaning on a wall. "You think I never learned how to play dead…?"

            "Holy Christ on crack, you little _bastard_!" Zero exclaimed, moved to the point of sacrilege. "Don't _do_ that to us!" He rushed over to Malevex, sheathing his sword and helping the Maverick to his feet. Malevex was still a bit overwhelmed by the concept of being helped by a Hunter, but the gash on his chest required that he play along. "How bad?" Zero asked him.

            "It's just a flesh wound," the former assassin quipped halfheartedly. "Listen…I don't pretend to understand what the hell is going through your head, but…this isn't over yet. With Sigma, I mean."

            "You've got that right," X declared. "We'll follow him to hell and back. It's what we do."

            "No, you don't understand," Malevex shook his head and pushed Zero away, opting to support himself. "Sigma won't just warp out of the castle. He'll pick up a few things along the way."

            "Things?" Zero asked nervously, seeing the look in Malevex's eyes. "Things like what?"

            "Things like the Spare," Malevex forced himself to say. He explained, unable to meet their eyes. "Our airship carried two armed Buzzbombs, but…but we did fix another warhead."

            "What?" X stepped back, shocked again. "You mean…"

            "Yeah." He looked up, feeling like he was signing his death warrant but unable to hold the information back. "There's a warhead here…our spare…that's not attached to a missile. Sigma can make a regular bomb out of it..."

            "And then set it off whenever he feels like, wherever he feels like," X finished, feeling very sick. "Well, isn't _that_ fine and dandy! It could be a worse crisis than the Buzzbombs themselves!"

            "But it can be fixed!" Malevex insisted. "Even with the Spare, Sigma won't warp out. He'll want to make his escape in another weapon…the Marauder."

            "The ride armor," Zero remembered. "Of course. He'll have both the world's nastiest mecha and a nuclear bomb for his next big scheme."

            "You guys have to go," Malevex urged. "Get to the second ring garage, where…" He couldn't say it. "…Where I fought X. You guys can stop Sigma right here in Seraph Castle…I mean, you really don't have a choice."

            "Yeah," Zero agreed, feeling his adrenaline rush. "Yeah…we can do it. He won't get away. And you, can you…?"

            "I'll be fine. I know what Triangle Rock means. Just get that bastard." He finally looked right at Zero and asked the question that had been bothering him the whole time. "…Zero, I gotta know…why? Why'd you go to all this trouble for monsters like us?"

            Zero took a deep breath and gave the Maverick—ex-Maverick now—the straightest answer he could. "Because I'm a monster too. And I wanted to change that. I think…I think you guys do, too."

            Malevex, in some very obscure way, was able to understand that. He extended his hand. Zero frowned at the gesture, but Malevex glanced up. "Do it." Zero, sensing there was something more to this handshake, grasped Malevex's offered hand. Almost immediately something jolted Zero's mind, and a thin wave of fire trailed down Malevex's body and crept up Zero's, embedding itself in the sword sheathed on the Hunter's back.

            "What the hell?" Zero exclaimed, pulling away.

            "It's not that hard," Malevex responded, tapping the side of his head. "Check your systems."

            Zero did so, and was pleased to find that in his weapons file he now had the program for a new sword technique: the Triple Nova.

"Use it," Malevex ordered. "Get him." He stepped back, nodding. "You'll know…where to find us."

            Zero understood what that meant, too—Terrornova was in his debt, and they weren't going to forget it. "I'll remember that." He looked to X, who'd been standing awkwardly nearby. "Let's go. Sigma isn't leaving this place alive…not with a nuke and a metal monster like the Marauder." He looked once more at the swordsman behind him, the man he'd deemed to be his personal incarnation in this place. He'd fought to save himself, and by some miracle it looked like he was going to succeed. "Don't make my mistakes," he said directly. Without waiting for a reply, which didn't come anyway, Zero activated his dash thrusters and zoomed out of the room, followed closely by X.

            Malevex watched them go and picked up his ignited saber from the floor. He disabled and sheathed it, walking slowly after the Hunters to where he knew a hidden exit was. "How strange…" he whispered to his fellow shadows. "But…maybe it's finally happened. Gredam…you didn't fail us at all…

            …Terrornova is dead at last."


	45. Homecoming

**Chapter 44: Homecoming**

            "No offense to you," Erich Zegmann said to Archer, "but Reploid blood reeks." He would know. The big man had fired a shot that split a Maverick throat, much to Zegmann's dismay, since he'd received the geyser of fluids right in his torso.

            "I have a feeling," Archer retorted, "that yours doesn't smell much better."

            "Who smells blood anyway?" Mason piped up, rushing up to join his fellow commanders. "Other than vampires."

            "Mr. Kuwangner, that's who." Zion butted his way through them, leveling his gaze at the damaged structure that was Maverick Hunter Headquarters. "So if you all don't mind, I'd like to kick his ass out of our home, before he starts going apeshit on whatever hostages he's taken."

            "You really think there are hostages?" Jasper had to ask, joining the party. He'd figured that the Mavs would kill anyone they found. Hostage taking seemed like too much work at this stage in the game.

            "I hope not," Zion said at length. "But the more I think about it, if the Mavs don't have hostages, they're gonna wanna take 'em. It's not about winning for them now—it's about escaping."

            "And the more time they can buy, the better," Archer finished with a solemn nod. "Well, the gang's all here, so what do you say we cut their time in half?"

            "Sounds dandy." Zion produced a pocket holography device and brought up an image of the HQ floor plan. "All right. We've got this bigass hole on the north end—the end we're facing. That's probably what the enemy used to enter the place, since our internal defenses would be for shit."

            "Then that's also where their major defenses will be," Jasper realized aloud. "Well, a rear assault is always a possibility."

            "That's about what I was thinking," Zion agreed. "Except if we march the whole goddamned army back there, they're gonna redirect their forces."

            "Split up?" Zegmann suggested. "Just like back there on the streets?"

            "It should work," Archer piped up. "Send one unit to invade the back while the main force keeps their main force busy. It worked once, and the Mavericks won't have enough forces left to send a worthwhile interception force for that one unit."

            "It's not the Maverick counterattack I'm worried about," Mason said dourly. "You said it first Zion: they want to escape. They'll probably be using the teleporters we have inside the base, assuming they're still there, or they'll be trying to get to the pad where most of our forces left from earlier. The blizzard is still going strong. They'll have cover."

            He was right. Archer tilted his head up at the white sky, made whiter by the residue from the nuclear blast. His eyes moved involuntarily towards the small mushroom cloud that still hovered stubbornly in _Icarus_'s final position. "The way these winds are blowing," the alabaster Hunter worried, "what are we going to do about fallout?"

            "There's nothing we can do," Zion said quickly, but with a grimace. "Not until we've reclaimed this base."

            "Neutralizing enough of the enemy force could make them surrender," Mason insisted. "The east exit is closest to the outdoor pad. Send one team there to intercept the Mavericks trying to escape."

            "And one to the south," Jasper restated, "to get a squad in the base."

            Zion studied the blueprint for a few more seconds and then closed it, replacing the holograph in his armor compartment. "All right. Here's what we're gonna do." He turned to Jasper. "I sent you last time, but this time we need a bigger force at the front. I want Units 17 and 15 backing up 20. Erich, bring up the rear. I don't want to use artillery here unless we have to—why damage the base any more? Mason, take Unit 3 and lie in ambush at the east quadrant. If something changes, you'll get the signal, and you'll invade through the east side to rendezvous with the main force inside the building." He looked next to Archer. "Bring Unit 5 to the south wall and infiltrate. We know our building, so we have home court advantage. Infiltration…hey, that's right. Castle! C'mere!"

            The black and gold Hunter surfaced from the mass of Hunters behind the commanders. "S'up?"  
            "Listen," Zion approached him. "How many of Unit 8's soldiers are functional?"

            "Stromm is dead," Castle fairly growled. "The bastards shot him up back at Asimov Lane. We haven't found Damia yet, but we assume she's with Signas and the others. Other than that we're okay."

            "Shadin took a fall," Jasper put in suddenly. "I've sent a squad under Scylla back for her."

            "And they'll return when?" Zion asked with an annoyed expression.

            "Soon," Jasper said sheepishly.

            "All right." The field commander took a deep breath and looked back at Castle. "Follow Archer. Unit 8 will help with the infiltration. Once inside, wait for special orders. I'm sure there'll be some Maverick plot we'll need you guys to disarm."

            "That's a rog'," Castle nodded, the adrenaline clear in his expressions. "Those bastards got it coming big time tonight."

            "So we all understand?" Zion asked. "Zegmann, Jasper and I will attack the front and keep the Mavs busy up here. Archer and Castle are going south, and Mason's going east. Any questions? Goodie. Now let's move." He raised his eyes to the HQ. "I have a feeling this one's gonna get pretty bloody."

            Inside the HQ, things were already bloody.

            Gravity Beetle hadn't known this kind of despair before. In the past he'd been just another Maverick—a general, yes, but that had been as a security officer in Doppler Town, under Bit and Byte's surveillance. Now he was in charge of an army…a losing army. Half the Mavericks who came into the base from the battle outside were wounded in some way or another. It was obvious to Gravity that he couldn't possibly mount a successful defense with the force he had. About all he could do was stall for time until his troops could escape. They were already piling into the base teleporters—the ones that still worked—but it was clear that it wouldn't be enough. Gravity didn't even know if Seraph Castle was a safe haven anymore. Gredam hadn't returned with Marauder yet, and he wasn't answering his communicator. This left the big beetle more than a little nervous. If they were about to teleport into a deathtrap…

            At least he still had Geddon. The monstrous Maverick was somewhat brutally forcing the frightened troops to fall into line. He was keeping organized what would otherwise have been a madhouse.

            "Brutish, that one," Boomer Kuwangner said to his brother as he sidled up next to him.

            "But effective." Gravity turned to his lanky sibling. "We can't stay here long. The Hunters won't be far behind, especially now that they've recovered that leader of theirs."

            "Signas!" Boomer hissed. "What a fine hostage he'd have made! And that old man, too. Alas, it seems Gredam was not as extra special as we were led to believe."

            "Why do you hate them?" Gravity did what for him passed as raising an eyebrow. "All you do is belittle their efforts. They've done great things."

            "And yet," the bitter bug retorted, "we're still the ones on the losing end. Christ, we had NUKES! And we still LOST!"

            "Worry about it later!" Gravity said with a glare. "For now let's just concentrate on getting out of here alive."

            "Like that'll happen." Boomer chuckled and shook his head. "You don't know enough yet, Gravity. You don't have enough experience. When the Hunters come, we die. Then it's all a matter of waiting for Sigma to revive us. He always does, in time."

            "So you'd rather be a roach than a beetle?" The blue Maverick crossed his arms. "I'm not about to call it quits just yet."

            "Oh really?" A smile formed out of Boomer's mandibles. "And just what could _possibly_ keep the bastards at bay?"

            "Mines." Gravity grew annoyed at his brother's unchanging expression. "Look, it's not much, but it WILL buy some time. I've set Gravity Wells on the lower floors. When I activate them their force will crush the key structural points and bring the rest of this loathsome building to the ground."

            "Assuming they don't deactivate them first."

            "As I'm sure they will," Gravity said without missing a beat. "Because we're going to make damned sure they know about the mines."

            "What? Why?"

            "It wouldn't be much of a time gainer otherwise, would it? It'll draw some strength from their main force if they have to send a squad to neutralize the Gravity Wells."

            "It's not much, bro…"

            "But it's _something_. What have _you_ come up with? And don't say hostages."

            "Hostages wouldn't work anyway," Kuwangner said defensively. "Not unless we had someone big, like Signas or Cain. Anyone else, they can just call our bluff, and the instant we kill or release the hostage we're dead, if some special ops nut doesn't do the job beforehand. I propose the good old fashioned way—run like hell."

            "I'm sure we'll have to," Gravity admitted. "But let's at least lengthen the time till then as much as possib—what's that? Hello?" He frowned as Doc Volvar began transferring information through his internal communicator. "Already, they're inside?"

            "No," Boomer shook his head in thought, getting the same information. "These Hunters have been here. Volvar, what's going on?"

            "There's been an encounter," Doc Volvar responded. "We intercepted a squad of…stowaways. We don't have enough forces back here…they're pretty heavily armed."

            "Where are they now?" Gravity asked urgently.

            "South quadrant. I'm pretty sure that's where they're going."

            "I'll send reinforcements," Gravity replied, breaking communications.

            "_You'll_ send reinforcements?" Boomer shook his head slowly, in some form of awe. "Brother. You _do _know how to assert yourself! But I'm the scavenger among us…not you. Man the troops up here. I'll lead the squad."

            Gravity gave his brother a once over, scanning for some ulterior motive. Finding none, he nodded slowly. "Finish it quickly, then get back here. It won't be long now."

            "Of course." Boomer stood cryptically still for a moment. "Stop worrying so much," he finally said as he turned away from his brother. "What looks like the end of the road is…often just the beginning." With that he started off.

            Gravity watched Boomer go, noting that his brother's squad included a sleek orange Maverick named Quasar, whom Gravity was acquainted with. He patched into Quasar's com-link. "Keep an eye on him," he ordered. Quasar flashed a very brief thumbs up in reply before vanishing into the Hunter hallways. It was pretty bad, when you couldn't trust your own brother to behave in a crisis.

            Gravity spent the next ten minutes giving a short speech to the assembled Mavericks. He explained the situation and assigned different squads to their duties. When he had secured a workable evacuation plan—which relied heavily on Boomer's "run like hell" philosophy—Gravity stepped back and Geddon approached him. "You're sure?" the behemoth of a humanoid asked.

            "Sure I'm sure," Gravity replied statically. "Unless you've got any ideas?"

 If Geddon did, he didn't have a chance to voice them. He patched into his communicator and frowned, turning back to his commander. "We got trouble."

            "The Hunters?" Gravity said, dread creeping up inside of him. "Already?"

            "They began their approach a minute ago," Geddon's frown grew deeper. "I think we'd better call our forces up front."

            "Agreed," the blue Maverick said as he activated his communicator. "Boomer, come in. We need you back here. …Boomer?" The feeling of dread grew stronger—there was no answer. Just when the Maverick was about to really start to worry, another line broke through. "Quasar? What happened?"

            "That no good bro of yours ditched us," Quasar responded. He sounded like he was in pain. "Gave me a good gash when I tried to stop him, too."

            "_What_?" Gravity was aghast.

            "He has betrayed us, then?" Geddon asked, deadpan as usual.

            "No," Gravity said sharply. "He's just…gone AWOL. We'll deal with him later…god _damn _it, Boomer, this is not the _time_!"

            "Boss," Quasar went on. The sounds of combat were starting to seep through the radio waves. "We've encountered the enemy!"

            "Gaaahhh…" Gravity threw up his hands in frustration. "Finish them! _Quickly_! And then haul ass back here! We gotta focus our defenses—Geddon, focus the defenses, dammit!"

            "Consider it done," the brutish Maverick said, turning and moving towards the Maverick soldiers.

            "Volvar!" Gravity tried Boomer's associate's frequency, again coming up cold. "Damn it, him too?" His eyes darkened. Those two were playing one of their sick games. He just knew it. "Now is not the _time_ for your _childish bullshit_!" He spun in frustration, staring at the remnants of the wall the Buzzbomb had blasted its way through. He could now indeed see the major Hunter units coming right for them. "Dammit," he swore, feeling the rage boiling up inside him. "We won't go down without a fight. All units!" He patched into every communicator. "Begin the evacuation! Hold the fort until the order is given—we will prepare the way." He felt his fingertips tingle as gravitational energies clustered around them. "It's on now," he promised the advancing Hunters. "Just you wait."

            Damia came slowly back to the land of the living. The environment reappeared as a big blur that slowly regained focus and transformed into what appeared to be the Hunter medical ward. _Great_, the Huntress thought, somewhat depressed. _Back to square one._ Briefly she recollected the events that had brought her here, culminating in the brief encounter with Doc Volvar. Where was the bastard? And more importantly…why wasn't she tied down somehow? She felt no restraints on any parts of her body. That didn't make any sense…had the Mavericks just left her here? She found that very hard to believe. Becoming aware of the bright lights overhead, she felt her eyes growing tired of the glare and tried to blink.

            Her eyelids wouldn't move.

            _Whaa…?_ She tried again, failing just like before. In fact, she realized, she couldn't move any part of her body. _Am I…paralyzed?_ That explained the lack of restraints, then. She tried to move her eyes themselves, and enjoyed precious little success, but at least they twitched. For the first time she was able to notice a strange machine over her head, humming softly as it performed whatever actions it was supposed to perform on her. She did a quick internal scan and learned that with the exception of a few sore circuits near where she'd been shot earlier at Seraph Castle, she was doing just fine. Her motor skills, though, were shot to hell because of…something.

            "Ah, she awakes."

            Damia tried to turn her head to face her new friend, and was frustrated when she remembered that she couldn't. Doc Volvar approached slowly, his red lab coat trailing slightly behind him. There was a small smile on his whiskered face—an eerie smile that immediately put Damia on guard. "So volatile and dangerous in combat," Volvar whispered, looking her over. "But so fragile and helpless in sleep." The Maverick surgeon chuckled lightly, looking right into her open eyes. "And probably fiercely brave all the time…aren't you?"

            _Go screw a dead camel,_ she tried to say, but her mouth wouldn't open. No sound even came out of her vocal unit. _That _really scared her. Volvar apparently noticed. She couldn't tell how, but she figured she must convey more through her eyes than she realized.

            "Yes, I'll bet you have a lot to say to me," the doctor said, his smile remaining. "I wouldn't get too bent out of shape about it, though. You'll never make another sound again, I'm afraid." She tried to remain stoic, but Volvar easily saw the worry that flickered briefly through her eyes. "Oh don't worry," he said, his smile growing bigger. "Your voice box is just fine. As is the rest of you. For the time being."

            Doc Volvar got right next to the operating table and patted the device Damia had noticed earlier. "This little doohicky…it's quite useful. What it does is, it acts almost like a faulty anesthesia. It paralyzes your body, but leaves your senses awake and alert." He couldn't resist another chuckle. "You see, I got the idea after reading some very old medical journals. Anesthesiologists didn't always do their jobs well." The Maverick sat on the edge of the table, getting comfortable. "Most of the time, they got it right, but every once in a while a horror story emerged wherein a surgical patient went under, but woke up before the operation began…only they were too doped up to let anyone know about it. So, heh, yes, they felt everything that was happening to them, and they had no way to make their discomfort known. They couldn't even scream." The dour look on his face vanished and he brightened up. "Now, of course, modern medicine has advanced to the point where this is no longer a problem. There hasn't been a case like that in decades, and certainly no cases at all involving Reploids." He reached over and traced a fingernail down Damia's cheek. "Unfortunately, my dear, there's a first time for everything. And you're it." He drew his nail sharply down and put a deep scratch along the Huntress's cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood. "Oh, you felt that, didn't you?" Volvar smiled, catching the look in her eyes. "Excellent."

            Never in her life had Damia despaired. As a guerilla fighter, she'd been captured more than once, and tortured on occasion, but never effectively enough to break her. Her mentality was simply the opposite of everything interrogators hoped for—there was little fear to be found in her at all. She'd risen through the ranks slowly but surely, encountering many a crisis but pulling through with the same thought pattern: deal with it, and then castrate the bastards later. This time was no different. She listened to Volvar reveal his plans for her, and while it did put a chill in her spine she was far more enraged than she was afraid. Who in the _hell_ did this guy think he was? What kind of _sicko _paralyzes chicks and vivisects them? Her anger spread much further than her own situation. This guy had Mavericks who were apparently under his control. Where the hell were they now? The Hunters _had _to be on their way. Was this asshole just _abandoning _them to play his stupid little game?

            Doc Volvar laughed again when he saw the rage in her eyes. "Just what I hoped for. I'm not interested in someone who's going to lie around and think 'oh, woes me'. I want to _break _someone." He patted the contraption above Damia again. "I designed this thing as an interrogation device. The idea is to torment the victim for a while, and then release them from the hold long enough for them to decide whether or not they want to talk. If not, well, back to hell they go." He picked up one of her limp arms. "As you can see, though…you're not restrained. That's because we're not interested in anything you have to say." He let the arm fall. "We just want you to pay. For every Maverick life you've ever snuffed out. And frankly…this is the worst way we can think of for you to die." He shook his head sadly. "I would have preferred Signas, or, by some miracle, X, but I guess you'll do." He looked away from her when a door opened. "Ah, Boomer!" Volvar stood up. "You made it."

            "Volvar." Boomer bowed his head slightly, and then looked to Damia. His expression became, for lack of better term, bug-eyed. "That's…"

            "The guerilla commander." Volvar cracked a satisfied grin. "Strong enough for you?"

            "Volvar, you are a _piece of work_." Boomer stepped forward and approached the paralyzed Huntress, nearly shaking with excitement. "By the powers…it's the perfect subject." He glared at her. "Remember me, you bitch? We met once, a long time ago. One of your goons put a big hole in a friend of mine." Quick as a flash he took his Boomerang Cutter from atop his head and held the cold steel to Damia's scratched cheek. "Perhaps it's time that I return the favor, hmm?"

            Damia had a thousand words for him, but as she couldn't vocalize any of them she just threw him back the hardest glare she could. She diverted her energies to her optic functions to keep them going despite the light and her inability to blink. She saw Boomer move his weapon down, but couldn't follow it. Then she felt the tip of his blade push through the bodysuit covering her stomach—they'd left her in her armor, she realized suddenly, but there was none of that around her midsection. The chill grew worse, and she focused hard on remaining in control of herself, even when the blade pushed through the suit and continued down through her flesh. Unable to even grit her teeth against the sting, she lay still, though she did feel a shudder roll through her as Boomer dragged the blade downward. A burning line was soon drawn across her abdomen, and the Huntress quickly lost her restraint. Her eyes burned with anger again, this time mostly anger about her inability to change the situation. Boomer knew exactly what she was thinking, and fitted both points of his boomerang in the surgical opening he'd created.

            "You think you're mad now?" The Maverick hissed and drove the blade slowly down into Damia's stomach. Her eyes widened as much as the paralysis would allow, and this time the pain was evident. "I've waited _years_ to get one of you Hunter bigshots back," Boomer hissed again. "I mean, _really_ get you back. You're standing in for all the others…get ready for a long day."

            _You bastard,_ she raged mentally. Hate was not even the right word anymore for her perception of these two.

            "Hate us if you like," Doc Volvar said from his perch near the head of the table. "You Hunters have been doing it ever since conception…hating us, like we're all monsters. Well…it's about time we did something to really _deserve_ that label, eh Boomer?"

            "I think the nukes did that nicely," Kuwangner said, not looking up from his work. "But if not, this will finish the job." He twisted the blade sharply to the right, and that really did it. Another shudder went through Damia, and along came an immense desire to scream, but it couldn't get out. That was a serious shock to her systems. She had never known silence could be such a horrible thing.

            "You think _that_ sucked?" Boomer laughed, twisting the blade harder and savoring the agony in his victim's eyes. He ignored the blood that dribbled out of the wound, getting his hand all dirty. In fact, he savored it. "We're just getting started, my dear. Pray to whatever gods you may worship for another nuke…cuz that's about all that's gonna save you now."

            Alan Seitz had made it his job to more or less baby sit Cain, who wasn't exactly the best sprinter in the world at his age. Cain had a pistol, but Seitz doubted that the old man could use it well, and as such had his own pistol up and at the ready.

            Dr. Carlton was doing a pretty good job of keeping Krysta and Nightchaser up and running. Chase actually needed less and less attention as time went on. His natural adrenaline was catching up to him, and Seitz wasn't all that worried about him if a battle sprung up. Krysta was still feeling miserable but she could swing her axe if need be. Dr. Ledyard was bellicose as ever, his machine pistols out and ready. He led the party, with Cain and Seitz close behind and Carlton and the others bringing up the rear. Seitz really, really missed Damia and Tiberius, but he'd seen neither hide nor hair of them since they'd left the armory through the vents.

            Now they were inside the electrical center of the base, where the generators were all mostly activational. From here it was a short distance to the southern exit…and god knew what awaited them outside, Seitz thought nervously. Whatever it was, it had to be better than what was in here.

            Ledyard came to a sudden halt. "Someone's coming."

            Seitz listened, and Ledyard was right—heavy footsteps were coming their way, fast. There was no way those footsteps could belong to a human.

            "_Now_?" Chase moaned, drawing his saber.

            "Wait," Cain ordered, stepping forward slightly. "I think that's…"

            "_Tiberius_," Ledyard glared at his approaching boss. "You scared the _bejesus _outta me!"

            "Thank god you're still around to scare," Tiberius said, out of breath. There was no joy in his eyes at reuniting with his friends, however. Something was making him very nervous.

            "Boss?" Carlton asked, seeing his superior's expression. "What's the problem?"

            "Where's Damia?" Seitz asked suddenly, noting her absence.

            "They've got her," Tiberius growled. "I mean…last I saw her, she was distracting the enemy so we could get here…but…" He shook his head. "I don't think she escaped. I've still got her signal, though, so she's still alive."

            "Where is she?" Cain asked worriedly. He knew all the unit commanders on a personal basis.

            "Medical ward," Tiberius responded. "What's left of it, anyway."

            "That's where we started," Chase moaned again.

            "Yeah," Ledyard said, though it clearly pained him to say it. "There's not much we can do for her, boss."

            "Well we've gotta do _something_!" Tiberius clenched his fists. "No way can we just leave her here."

            "What about after we link up with the others?" Carlton asked hopefully. "I mean, they've gotta be coming…right?"

            "I should hope so," Cain said, though weakly. Then his eyebrows raised. "What's…?"

            "I hear it," Ledyard agreed, raising his machine pistols. There were metal footsteps coming their way…lots of them.

            "Shit," Tiberius winced, checking his pistol's ammo. "All right, then, we have no choice…let's _move_! The exit's right down there!"

            No sooner had the Hunters started moving than the Mavericks appeared. "There!" one shouted, and the rest quickly followed suit. Shots began to fly, and it quickly became clear that the Hunters would have to fire back if they wanted to buy the time they'd need to escape.

            "Carlton!" Tiberius barked. "Get the wounded out of here!"

            "Not me," Nightchaser growled. "I'm not sittin' around when there's killin' to be done!"

            "Whatever." Tiberius flashed Carlton a hopeful look that the Reploid doctor returned to the best of his ability as he escorted Krysta and Cain away from the battlegrounds. "Right," Tiberius said, turning to Ledyard, Seitz and Chase. "Scatter!" He raised his pistol and fired a shot into an advancing Maverick's skull. The enemy dropped, but others came after him. It seemed like a whole squad had been sent their way.

            The Hunters divided and hid behind the generators scattered throughout the room. A Maverick must have been trying to use a grenade, but someone who sounded authoritative yelled "You idiot! It's their own auto-defenses that are keeping them outside! Don't blow the generators!" Tiberius peeked out long enough to get a look at the Maverick in charge. He was an average looking Reploid in glossy orange armor. Hoping to cut the head off the snake right away, Tiberius leveled his pistol and fired.

            Quasar saw Tiberius just before the shot was fired, and stepped quickly out of the way. The shot landed harmlessly in a nearby wall, and Quasar responded by sending a group of three Mavericks towards Tiberius's position. "Find the bastards!" Quasar ordered. "Smoke 'em out!"

            "Smoke this," Seitz whispered from his hiding spot, gunning down two of the squad with a rapid-fire pistol attack. He was an excellent shot.

            Quasar sent Mavericks to Seitz's position, but Chase was on top of it. He leapt out into the open and barreled into the advancing Mavericks, lashing his sword out into each of them, felling the surprised enemies easily. Then he just as quickly retreated, ignoring the pain when his wounds started acting up.

            "Enough!" Quasar raged. "He motioned to Tiberius's position. "Attack! Everyone!"

            "Shit," Tiberius observed. Knowing of no other option, he ran away from the main force, retreating backwards. "Think the others are out yet?" he yelled.

            "Who the hell knows?" Ledyard called back. "We can't do this much longer!"

            Tiberius was about to respond when he turned and saw Quasar looking right at him. The orange Maverick thrust his hands out and a strange, pulsating white concentration of energy flew into Tiberius's chest. It exploded upon impact and threw the surprised medical chief clear across the room, imbedding him in a far wall. "Ugh," was all he managed, slumping to the floor.

            "Liked that?" Quasar asked, grinning. "Just wait." The Mavericks began moving en masse towards the downed Tiberius.

            "Not so fast!" Ledyard snapped, rushing out with his machine pistols on full blast. He moved clear across the room, dropping most of the vanguard force, and then vanished behind another generator. "Someone else, please?" Ledyard asked, nervously, when he saw that Tiberius still had yet to get up.

            "Let's go, biznatch!" Chase called out, rushing into battle behind the Mavericks. This time they attacked him back, and it wasn't long before he had to fall back. Seitz helped by sniping, taking potshots at Quasar, who eventually pinpointed his position.

            "What's this, little human?" the Maverick asked with a sneer. "You want to play in the big leagues?" He shot a bolt of his gravitational energies at Seitz, who dove out of the way. The generator he'd been hiding behind took the blow, and went a little haywire. "Oops," Quasar said, then shrugged. "Well, that's why there's more than one." He ran straight for Seitz, much to the human's horror, and launched into a martial arts combo that Seitz knew he had no chance of countering. Quite desperately, he threw himself into a roll, bringing his weapon up with him and firing. By some miracle, the shot embedded itself in Quasar's unarmored abdomen, causing the Maverick to double over in pain. "Oh, you're in for it now," he hissed.

            "Is he?" Nightchaser asked, rushing up behind Quasar with his sword poised to kill. Quasar hissed again and sprang backwards, much to Chase's surprise. The wounded Hunter stumbled, and Quasar blasted him almost point blank with his energy. Chase grunted in shock and shot all the way up into the ceiling. The impact jarred his sword from his hands, and it rolled out of reach. The Hunter himself came crashing down seconds later, a big moaning wreck.

            "Ha!" Quasar laughed. "Is this it? Is this all you guys have left?" He drew his foot back to put it through Seitz's chest. Then his question was answered—the southern gate literally exploded off its hinges as Unit 5 poured inside. "Holy shit!" Quasar had time to exclaim before a massive concentration of red energies slammed him against a wall. He slumped to the floor, in much worse shape than Nightchaser.

            "Nice to see you're all having fun," Commander Archer said, deadpan, the energy still radiating from his buster cannon. "Mind if we join in?"

            "Thank _God_!" Tiberius said, getting shakily to his feet. "A few more seconds and we'd have been toast!"

            The Mavericks weren't sticking around. What remained of Quasar's force turned and fled. Archer didn't pursue them. "They're not going anywhere," he assured Tiberius when the medic stared in shock. "Zion's coming in the front and Mason's guarding the best exit. We've got 'em boxed in."

            "A slaughterhouse, then?" Tiberius asked, somewhat disapproving.

            "Why not?" Archer responded airily. "They did nuke us. Have you forgotten?"

            Back in the mass of Unit 5 Hunters, Cain and Krysta had found the squad medic with Carlton's help. Krysta forgot about her wound, though, when she saw a silver figure standing in a corner with a somewhat vacant expression. "Vulcan!"

            Focus returned to Vulcan's eyes when he turned to face the owner of the voice. This turned out to be a good thing, because Krysta rushed right into him, nearly crushing him with her embrace. "Jeez," he managed, hugging her back. His eyes regained full focus when his hand grazed her nasty side wound. "What…what happened?"

            Krysta didn't answer. The night's events had been much too hectic for her, a rookie, but until now she'd been under the knowledge that a breakdown meant death. Now that she was in safe hands she was free to have that breakdown, and sobbed into Vulcan's shoulder.

            "She's had a rough night." Vulcan looked up to see Dr. Carlton standing nearby. "Some wanker named Scythe went batshit. She's one of the two who stopped him, but she got herself a bad wound in the process."

            "_Scythe_?" Vulcan blinked, nearly dropping Krysta. "_Scythe _went insane?"

            "Well, not really that," Carlton said, unsure why Vulcan was so surprised. "Seems this Scythe fella was a spy from the start. He's the one who deactivated our base defenses so we couldn't stop the Buzzbombs."

            "Scythe was…a Maverick?" Vulcan still didn't believe it. He'd have suspected Chase before Scythe any day.

            "We got him," Krysta whispered. "The bastard."

            "We?" Vulcan frowned, looking back at Carlton.

            "Yeah." The doctor nodded. "She and this Nightchaser guy did the job. He got himself busted up too, but he still fought." Carlton looked back to the battle scene and winced. "Matter of fact, I think that's him plastered on the floor over there…excuse me."

            Vulcan let Carlton take his leave, and then turned back to Krysta. "Are you…gonna be all right?"

            "Yeah," she whispered back, still shivering. "Thank God you made it…"

            "Shh." He ran his fingers through her long white hair. "It's all right now. …Rykov's all right, too."

            "Good." She clutched him even tighter and was still, and for a second Vulcan thought she might have fallen asleep. Well…let her.

            The Rykov in question was watching from a distance. Hawkins sidled up next to him, viewing the same scene. "How is he?" the squad leader asked.

            "I think we're gonna have a problem," Rykov said at length, frowning. "He was fine when he saw her, but before that…" He shook his head. "I don't know. Ever since he got all gooped up with Derringer mush, he hasn't been…well, he's not all there."

            "Hmm." Hawkins hated it when this happened. "Well, you're his friend. Make damn sure he gets help if he needs it. Hopefully she'll do the trick for us, but if not, be on your guard. War nightmares can just destroy a guy."

            "Yeah," Rykov agreed, watching his friends standing quietly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

            Castle of Unit 8 decided to torment the most colorful Maverick he could find, and that turned out to be Quasar. "Well lookie here," the guerilla said with a big grin, hoisting Quasar to his feet and slamming him against the wall. "An unwound Fruit Roll-Up. What's the word, citrus man?"

            "I have…nothing to say to you!" Quasar wheezed.

            "Really. Well ain't that a beaut?" Castle drove his fist into the Maverick's wounded gut. "Listen. You tried to kill Cain. Cain and I, we get along. He's a good guy. I don't appreciate what you just did. So I'm gonna try again—what's your game?"

            "Escape," Quasar choked out. "Was it…that…hard?"

            "Yes." Castle said, nodding. "Yes it was." He let Quasar drop. "And thank you for clearing it all up for me. Hey, we got a live one here. Someone break out the shoestring and tie him up." The Hunter strolled over to another corner of the room, which was where Tiberius got his attention.

            "Boy am I glad to see you," the doctor blustered, calling up a holograph of the base.

            "What's going on, sir?" Castle asked, getting serious. Tiberius had never much liked his sarcasm.

            "That," Tiberius responded, pointing to a blue dot in the medical ward, "is Damia. And these two dots are Mavericks."

            "They've got her?" Castle asked, getting _really_ serious.

            "She tried to distract them." Tiberius looked embarrassed.

            "Only two of em, eh?" Castle mused aloud, already making plans.

            "Yeah, but this one here is giving off large energy readings. …I think that's Boomer Kuwangner."

            "Boomer Ku—rrrriiiiiight." Castle spun on his heel, understanding exactly what was going on here. "Wallace! Everett! Dantz! Deluge! Fall in! We just got invited to a party!" He looked to Archer, whose attention had just been perked. "Yo, uh, we're gonna…go now."

            "Where to, may I ask?" the Commander queried.

            "Medical ward." Castle's Unit clustered around him. "We'll be back in a jiff."

            "Medical ward…" Archer logged the info and nodded. "We're going to rendezvous with Zion up front. Meet us there."

            Castle needed no further confirmation. He turned and sprinted off, his unit in tow. Along the way he explained the situation to his friends, and they were similarly enraged. This guerilla team had spent far too much time together to not be close pals. To mess with one was to mess with all.

            The last thing Archer did before marching his unit onward was to shut off all the power generators. MHHQ once again became powerless, which meant that the automated defenses installed to keep Mavericks out wouldn't have the same effect on the invading Hunters. Then they marched on to reclaim their home.

            Hunters would say many things about Commander Zion, but one thing they all agreed on was, the man _definitely _knew how to make an entrance.

            Zion knew that the Mavericks had to see him coming. To hinder their sight, he ordered all the Hunters to shield their eyes until further notice, and had Zegmann's gunners fire large strobe flares at the damaged base wall. They had the desired effect—the Maverick defense ring fell back in disorientation. Almost immediately Zion ordered his frontline to open fire, dropping several Mavericks before they even had a chance.

            "Return fire!" Geddon bellowed, and the Mavericks did so. Their shots were poorly aimed due to the strobes, but some unlucky Hunters still took hits. "You do NOT fall back. You hear me? You're all dead if you do!"

            "We're all dead if we don't!" one Maverick shouted, and the others began to chime in their agreement.

            Gravity Beetle stepped slowly forward, pushing to the front of the crowd. "Not just yet," the Maverick Boss declared, raising his hands to the sky. Gravitational energies clustered around his fists and shot out to a point at the center of the approaching Hunter mass. More and more energy grouped together, until eventually there was a black hole of sorts sitting there. "Now let's welcome them properly." The energy portal began to rain blasts of gravity down on the Hunters, blasting crowds of them into the air like children's toys.

            "Shit," Zion said with a wince. "We don't have time for this…" He contacted Jasper. "Get your sergeants together. We're rushing."

            And rush they did. The Hunters broke into a mad run, mostly to get away from the energy portal, and try as they might the Mavericks knew they'd never stop this rush. They quickly became discouraged and, despite Geddon's orders, turned and ran.

            "Dammit!" Gravity Beetle raged. Why weren't the auto-defenses working? "Quasar!" he shouted into his communicator. "Quasar, come in!" No answer. "Oh, no…" The Hunters must have already gotten there. It was an ambush, the Maverick realized, and he was sitting right in the crosshairs. He looked outside to see Zion himself approaching. "Well, at least I can send _you_ a message."

            In the basement level of the HQ, a silver orb came to life, emitting a strong gravitational field that slowly began to compress the structural material around it. Zion watched in surprise as a small section of the base collapsed in on itself. "That was just a sample," Gravity Beetle's voice hissed into his communicator.

            "You," Zion narrowed his eyes. "What's the meaning of this?"

            "You come in here," Gravity threatened, "and I bring the whole place down. Have a nice day." The connection broke.

            Zion frowned and patched into Jasper. "Change of plans, pal. Take Lariat and a few squads and go downstairs, once we enter."

            "Scylla's back," Jasper informed him. "She just rejoined us."

            "And Shadin…?"

            "She's badly hurt but she's alive. What's the problem?"

            "I think our bug friends have left us a surprise. A Gravity Well brought down that sector…I'm sure of it. Disarm any that you find down there."

            Jasper checked something before replying. "Roger. We've got scanners for those things. We'll handle it."

            Zion broke the connection and looked at the opening, which he was quickly approaching. "Sorry, Grav, but I'm coming in anyway."

            Gravity couldn't hear him, but the sentiment was clear. Geddon appeared behind his leader and brought him out of his thoughts. "Sir," he rumbled. "We have to leave."

            "Right," Gravity replied, sounding very tired. "They'll probably have the east exit guarded. Let's try to punch out the west with what troops are still within earshot."

            Geddon nodded and started off to collect a squad. Gravity followed, a cloud of anger hovering his mind. It was anger at the Hunters, anger towards his brother, anger towards the situation, and anger at himself for not being able to change anything. He knew how this was going to end. The law stated that Maverick Reploids must be deactivated. The Hunters were going to surround them and butcher them like cattle. It would be a bloodbath, and there was little he could to stop it.

            "Except die trying," he corrected himself. His wings unfolded and the thrusters came online, blasting him down the hallway after his fleeing companions.

            "A shame she can't scream," Doc Volvar observed. "I'd love to hear these screams."

            "Musn't be too greedy," Boomer Kuwangner reminded him, slowly removing his bloodied blade from his prisoner's body. "Think of it this way…by keeping everything inside, we're forcing her mind to turn on itself in order to keep it active—it has to keep active, else it'll have nothing to do except focus on the pain." Boomer wiped the blade off using Damia's hair, chuckling at the paralyzed guerilla as he did so. Her pupils fluctuated in size—the only reaction she could give to the pain coursing through her body. "Madness is an escape, my dear. Not a hindrance. Try it. Trust me, you'll like it!"

            Even if Damia could have spoken she still couldn't have answered him. She'd stopped hearing coherent words a while ago now. Her vision was about useless, but she didn't mind, because she wasn't sure she _wanted _to see what they were doing to her. The scariest part was, all this thinking, all the conscious thought, it was all being done with an increasingly smaller portion of her mind. The rest of it was occupied by a red haze that grew larger as the agony did. That _really _frightened her. The pain was hideous, but pain could _end_. Madness, though…madness was something that was much harder to get rid of. Her mind seemed bent on madness, though. Her CPU screamed warning messages that had all started to blend together—in fact, _everything _was blending together. She thought she was losing consciousness, but she still felt everything that was happening to her, so no, she knew, she was still fully awake.

            "I believe it's time to go to work," Volvar opined, as though everything else had just been play, producing a scalpel-like object. Boomer politely stepped aside and Volvar stared into the gaping wound his friend had created. Lord knew what Boomer had ground up in there, as all Volvar could see was a wet mass of coolant and occasional wires and steel. "Well, this makes things hard…" The quack doctor began poking around inside Damia's abdomen with his tool, finally finding what he was looking for—one of her internals. He checked to make sure it wasn't anything overly important, like her generator, and used his blade to actually make a slit in the organ. "This is the torture I talked about earlier," Volvar said to Boomer. "Now, watch the eyes…" The blade of his scalpel retreated, and in its place was a filament of sorts. Volvar inserted it into the organ and thumbed a button, creating a brief electrical surge.

            Damia's eyes, already bloodshot, grew wider and her body shuddered. Boomer stepped back. The look that flashed through his victim's eyes suggested she may break through the paralysis after that one. "My friend," the Maverick chuckled. "I think you have succeeded."

            "I thought as much," Volvar smiled, stepping back from his patient. "This tool's designed to go with this paralysis…one shock like that, and _any _Hunter will break!"

            Volvar wasn't too far from the truth. The last reserves of Damia's strength shattered after that shock, and for the first time in her life a wave of despair shot through her. What did that mean, she wondered. Had she broken? If so, the feeling of submission didn't last long before something else dominated it—a frenzy. All the rage she'd been building up shut out her consciousness and took over her mind, bathing everything in a red glow. Her breathing accelerated, her optics began to shiver, and her blood, unfortunately, began to flow faster, puddling up worse in her shredded midsection.

            "You're logging all this?" Boomer asked, replacing his blade atop his head.

            "Of course." Volvar frowned, hearing the sounds of battle outside the medical ward. "Assuming we don't survive, the test results are being sent back to my archives, where the Gold Serpent can access them."

            "The Serpent?" Boomer frowned. "Why not Sigma?"

            "Sigma never bothers with things this intricate. The Serpent, however, operates a wide network. It'll spread better there."

            "I see." Boomer frowned again as the sounds of battle grew closer. He looked pitilessly at the ruined Huntress on the operating table. "Well, seeing as we don't need anything from her…think of something creative, Volvar. And think it up quick. I don't think we have much time before guests arrive."

            The Hunters poured through the ruined wall to their home base, pleased to see that nothing fired at them as they did so. Jasper and Scylla took a large squad from Unit 17, leaving the others in Lariat's capable paws. The squad raced to the lower levels of the base, picking off three straggler Mavericks as they went, and Jasper turned on his scanners. They were equipped to detect anomalies in an area's normal energy field, and gravitational disruptions counted as anomalies.

            "I count five," Jasper reported loudly. "Damn, that bug's been busy…all right, I'm marking the positions on your scanners…_now_."

            "How do we deactivate 'em?" one flustered Hunter asked.

            "There's one up here," Scylla announced, taking charge. "Observe." A Gravity Well was a steel orb that when activated separated slightly to reveal a fluctuating core that began to compress the surrounding matter, in this case structural material. "Gravity Wells are harmless unless detonated," Scylla informed them, removing the Well and slamming it onto the floor, shorting it out. "Yes, it really is that simple."

            Jasper frowned. "This was…probably just a time waster, then."

            "Yes." Scylla agreed. "But it's still a threat."

            Jasper nodded his assent and they separated into two teams. Jasper hadn't gone far when he detected more Gravity Wells…_above _them. "Shit," he hissed. "They're gonna bring the roof down, one way or another."

            Vulcan and Rykov remained behind with Tiberius and Lifesaver while Archer and company zoomed ahead. Vulcan wanted to keep an eye on Krysta, and Rykov wanted to keep an eye on Vulcan. At the same time, he found a woozy Nightchaser and got him to relate the night's events.

            "That crazy schmuck," Chase grumbled, of Scythe. "Woulda killed us all, if I hadn't put a sword up his arse…yer friend there helped, I guess, choppin' off his legs an' all."

            Rykov smiled, despite himself. Now that the danger was passed, Chase was doped up on tranks again, as was Krysta, while Lifesaver fussed about repairing them. The Hunters had set up camp in the power chamber where the fight with Quasar had taken place. Quasar himself was tied up with some of the other surviving Mavericks, and Rykov looked without remorse at them. They were all quiet. They knew their fate. Maverick Reploids were deemed a danger to society, and would be deactivated as soon as it was convenient to do so.

            "It's kind of sad." Rykov turned to face Vulcan, who'd appeared out of friggin nowhere, and was having the exact same thoughts.

            "What's sad? Them?"

            "They don't have a chance." Vulcan leaned against a wall, looking at the comatose Quasar. "Their memory files will be pulled, and then they'll be executed."

            "They're terrorists," Rykov pointed out. "What do you want? A jury? Even human terrorists don't get juries."

            "How often does any Reploid get a jury?" Vulcan queried. 

Rykov had to stop and think about that one. Vulcan had a point. Even when Reploids did get juries, they were composed predominantly of humans. "It's because of assholes like these that normal Reploids _don't_ get fair treatment," Rykov decided.

            "But the more you exterminate them like this, the more they'll pop up," Vulcan insisted. "This can't be the way to go."

            "It's not," Rykov agreed, sighing. "But it's not up to us to save the world, Vulc. We're just not powerful enough. Sigma could have done it, years ago, but he chose the opposite path instead. X and Zero might do it, if the wars end. It's up to us to help them end the wars, the only way we can." He inclined his head towards Quasar. "And if that means shutting down assholes who use nukes, that's just fine with me."

            "Maybe." Vulcan stared a little longer and lowered his head. "It's still sick."

            "Yeah," Rykov agreed. "But what else are you gonna do? You saw how bad it was out there. It's up to the bigshots to make sure it doesn't happen again, but if it does, we gotta make sure it stops as soon as possible."

            Vulcan glanced up. "How long did you practice that…?"

            "I read it somewhere," Rykov allowed himself to grin. "Hunter promo, I think. It makes a hell of a lot more sense now than it did when I first read it."

            "Yo," Lifesaver piped up, remembering Vulcan and Rykov from the quarry. "You two still remember anything about saving lives?"

            "No," Rykov confessed. "But we can learn again."

            "Then c'mere." The humorless medic stood and motioned to a Hunter who was wounded relatively mildly. "If you guys can fix broken limbs up, it'll free Tiberius and I up to deal with the major wounds. I have a feeling we're gonna have a lot of work today."

            Castle veered around a corner expecting trouble. Finding none, and vaguely disappointed because of it, he took the vacant corridor at a sprint. Damia's signal was starting to weaken. Castle didn't know exactly what was happening to his commander, but if Boomer Kuwangner was involved it couldn't be good. He reached the end of the hallway and checked to see that his team members were keeping up, and of course they were—Dantz, Deluge, Everett and Wallace were always on top of things. If Acrystos were here they'd be all the better, Castle reflected, but she was busy doing her duty elsewhere. He wondered how _that _was faring.

            A ringing communicator stopped his wondering. "Castle here. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

            "As you wish," Jasper replied hurriedly. "Look, Castle, there are Gravity Wells placed as mines throughout the base."

            "Oh, shit."

            "Yeah, shit, lots of it. We're taking care of the ones downstairs, but there are some on your level."

            "I'm picking them up," Castle said, feeling a bit sick because he knew where this was heading. "There aren't many."

            "But there are still enough to finish what the Buzzbombs started. Where are the ones you're picking up?"

            "Some are just planted in corners, and two…" Castle reeled. "The _vent shafts_? How the hell did _Gravity Beetle _get something into a _vent shaft_? He's not a small guy!"

            "He probably floated them up there," Jasper suggested. "And in any rate, who cares? Just deactivate the ones you can find."

            "Roger," Castle said, deflated. Dammit. Now he had to split his forces. Boomer Kuwangner was no easy foe, and given his disposition Castle figured that bringing humans into the battle was a bad idea. "Everett, Wallace," he said, turning to his team. "New assignment."

            "What's that?" the lanky medic Everett asked.

            "Bombs," Castle said, hastily explaining the situation. "I need you and Wallace to take them out…you have your scanners, right?"

            "Of course." Wallace, a tall, powerful man, produced the portable handheld scanner the human Hunters were issued. "What do we do? Just smash the things?"

            "Sure, why not?" Castle shrugged. Then he frowned. This place was crawling with Mavericks now…just sending two humans, however stealthy they were, probably was a bad idea. "Deluge, go with them." The blue and white Reploid nodded assent and used his internal scanner to see what the humans were seeing. Then they were off.

            "And what do we do, then?" a rumbling voice queried.

            Castle smiled at the remaining Hunter, the huge, red-armored heavy gunner known as Dantz. "We go save our commander, that's what. She's in the medical ward—so is Boomer Kuwangner and some other jackass. I have a feeling this is gonna get personal, so let's screw the whole 'caution' idea and just kick some bug ass."

            "I couldn't agree with you more, sir," Dantz smiled in turn, transforming one of his powerful arms into a menacing cannon. Dantz, big as he was, was in fact an excellent guerilla. He was a beast of burden, so to speak, carrying with him all the squad's heavier weapons when the mission required them. He was surprisingly agile, and an all around good soldier. Castle figured that he and Dantz stood just as good a chance against Kuwangner and his buddy as any other Hunters would.

            "Right," the acting commander said as he turned towards the nearby medical wing. "Let's get this over with."

            Unit 5 proceeded hurriedly towards the base's control center, not knowing that Gravity Beetle was already retreating into their path. Archer, leading the pack, turned to Hawkins and motioned for him to move within speaking distance. "How's the medic squad?"

            "Still there," Hawkins responded confidently. They'd left a squad of their numbers to guard Lifesaver and Tiberius while they tended the wounded, a squad that included Vulcan and Rykov. "Where's Zion? No offense, boss, but this little party here isn't gonna hold off the whole Maverick force."

            "Tell me about it," Archer said through clenched teeth. "Zion's taking his time. He's 'evacuating' all the Mavericks from the front of the base and he's counting on us to keep them busy while he runs after them. It doesn't add up. Oh well," the alabaster Reploid said with a shrug. "We can always call in Mason from the east."

            It was about thirty seconds later when the first shots were fired. Unit 5 briefly became a disorganized shouting mass, but Hawkins thundered once and silenced them. "Mavericks sighted," he reported to Archer, arming his cannon. "It's time for action."

            And it was. The Mavericks apparently were just as shocked as the Hunters had been, and had just reorganized themselves. Spearheading their assault was the huge humanoid Geddon, who let loose an animalistic snarl at the sight of the Hunters. Archer was mildly intimidated. "He's their leader."

            "And he's gonna take some time to bring down," Hawkins added. "Hunters! Attack!"

            The two bodies of forces rushed at each other, but there was a definite difference in their sizes. Unit 5 was only one small sect of the Hunter force, and their forces had already been split. The Mavericks, though, kept on coming, and it was clear that this strategy would not work—the Hunters were being pushed back dangerously close to the medics.

            "Zion!" Archer bellowed into his communicator. "Let's get a move on! We're not gonna be able to hold them for long!"

            "We're right behind them," Zion assured him. He sounded breathless enough that Archer was sure he was hurrying.

            "Right," the commander said, breaking his communication and lifting his sword into an attack position. No sooner had he done so than something knocked him flat against the wall, driving his senses from his body. When his eyes refocused he beheld Geddon lowering his huge mace weapon, Hunter blood smeared all over him. The behemoth turned slowly to the stunned Archer and a wicked smile twisted his already unpleasant facial features. Then he roared in pain when Hawkins' charged blast struck him in the chest.

            "Didn't like that, did ya?" Hawkins taunted, firing off another round.

            Geddon roared again and swung his mace out in front of him, actually deflecting the plasma shot into a nearby wall. "You," he growled, "you're all the same. But now it's our turn to have some fun."

            "Then let us entertain you!" Archer chimed in as he rejoined the battle, clearing his head and diving at Geddon with his sword. The monster of a Reploid barely winced as the lightsaber cut into his armor. Instead he lashed out and punched at Archer, who deftly dodged only to dodge again as the mace swung his way. "Damn it," he realized aloud. It was not wise at all to fight this guy at close range.

            "Uh, boss," Hawkins said shakily. "I think…we have a problem."

            "What?" Archer leapt away from his foe, who was chuckling. "What do you—oh, hell."

            While Geddon had stalled for time, the Mavericks behind him had massed into one main group—they were now reorganized. "Like I said," Geddon boomed, "you're all the same…all fools. Now let's have that fun I was talking about. CHARGE!"

            Geddon's voice was almost as big as he was, but it was still drowned out by the collective war cries of the Mavericks behind him as they rushed into the disorganized Unit 5. Geddon himself swung his mace from side to side, plastering ruined Hunter bodies on the wall and brutally smashing anyone else who got in front of him. Both Archer and Hawkins were powerless against the Maverick assault, and soon the devastated unit was just hacking and slashing at any enemy they could find. The Maverick stragglers—which were most of the force, actually—continued to fight for their lives against the increasingly desperate Hunters.

            "ZION!" Archer raged again. "Where ARE you?"

            "We're right behind you," Zion responded, just as the Hunter next to him shot one of the slower Mavericks in the back of the head. "Don't stand around, Archer…retreat. Get back to the electrical chamber…that's a much wider area for a battle. You'll be slaughtered in those halls. Besides…that place is gonna be battlefield soon anyway, and you gotta protect the wounded that are still there." He switched channels. "Mason, come in. You need to get inside…now. Proceed immediately to the electrical facility and move fast. We don't have any time to waste." Again he switched lines. "Jasper. How's the situation?" It was good. Jasper's team had dismantled at least half of the Gravity Wells and would be rejoining the battle upstairs very soon. "Roger that." He broke all connections and let out a long, tired sigh. "Please, God, don't let this fall apart now."

            Brant Everett was much more suited to crawl into ventilation ducts than the bigger Henry Wallace was, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

            "When I find this thing," he promised the cobwebs, "I will shove it up that big blue bug's ass and let it compress HIM. Ha ha," he laughed aloud. "Now there's a way to kill the bastards. A G-force enema." Crisis brought out Everett's creative side.

            A minute later he found the bomb, and realized he had no idea what to do with it. He didn't want to destroy it in _here_…it might go off, and there wasn't exactly any place for him to run. "Jesus Christ on a Ski Doo," Everett raged, crawling backwards with the deadly orb in his fingers. "I have all the fun. Hey Henry!" he said after patching into his comrade. "I got the present. How should I deliver it?"

            "Be creative," Wallace responded, four hundred feet away, as Deluge brought the last Gravity Well down with a geyser from his arm cannon. Wallace then placed the device on the shoulders of a headless Maverick body, giving it a new noggin. Deluge frowned at the crude display, but didn't complain. He was not very happy with the Mavericks at the moment, and desecrating their remains didn't seem like such a bad idea. Besides, he knew better than to question the wartime logic of humans. "Let's go," Wallace gestured towards the medical lab. "I have this feeling the boss needs us."

            Gravity Beetle soared above the heads of his comrades, his own head brushing the ceiling. He wanted to catch up with Geddon and the others. He saw that Archer and company had turned and were running back the way they came. He also knew that Zion was coming from behind them. They had this one chance to break through Archer's weakening unit, and they would be free. If they failed…well, Gravity didn't want to think about that.

            "My brother," a disappointed voice said on his communicator. "You're still here?"

            "_Boomer_!" Gravity raged, blinded by anger and nearly ramming into a wall. "Where the _hell _are you?"  
            "Preparing to escape," the spindly Maverick responded, the essence of a grin in his voice. "As you should be."

            "We're almost there," Gravity growled. "No thanks to you."

            "You don't get it, do you?" Boomer sounded even more disappointed. "Get out of here…now. You and I both have short range warp devices. Warp outside and return to Seraph Castle."

            "Are you crazy? What about the—"

            "What _about _them?" Boomer hissed. "They're just foot soldiers, Gravity! Sigma can corrupt more of them in an hour than you'll lose today in combat. It's up to you whether or not you're going to go down with them."

            "You bastard." Gravity couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What the hell happened to you, brother?"

            "I grew up," he retorted. "Now do the same. Stop playing the idealistic commander role. Gredam tried that. Where is he now? God only knows."

            "I can't just abandon these people. We brought them into this fight—"

            "They brought _themselves _into this fight by joining with Sigma! It's _not your problem_!" There was an awkward pause. "You're not really going to stay in there, are you…?" Gravity did not answer. "Answer me," Boomer hissed. "Brother. Escape now, or you _will _die. There is no _stopping_ those Hunters. …Gravity?"

            "Good bye, Boomer," Gravity finally responded, breaking the link. A feeling of dread settled into his gut. Boomer had deserted them. Gredam hadn't returned with the Marauder, which they desperately needed to win. Zion was boxing them in between a rock and a hard place. He…probably would die here, he realized, and probably for good this time. "But that's just the price I pay," he decided, zooming ahead. He _had _brought these people in here and it _was _his problem. The Hunters were going to massacre them all like cattle…but they were going to have a hell of a time doing it. "There will be blood tonight," Gravity whispered, catching sight of Geddon ahead of him. "And I promise you, Zion, some of it will be yours…!"

Doc Volvar felt a shiver go up his spine. It wasn't because he was revolted—far from it, actually. He was quite pleased with his work. He'd successfully invented and tested a groundbreaking new torture technique for Reploid prisoners. It was much more effective than the outdated Surger devices, he thought, and it broke even the strongest wills. The surgeon brushed locks of Damia's hair off her perspiring face, staring into eyes that had by now glazed over. They were windows into a frenzied mind. Blood trickled from her lips, having welled up inside her due to her ruptured internals. That, in fact, was what inspired Volvar in choosing a way to kill her. He sidled over to a medical cabinet and produced one of the stimulant agents Tiberius himself had used to kick-start Nightchaser and Krysta out of their medicinal slumber and approached his prisoner. The stimulant, he knew, would increase most of Damia's internal functions, including how quickly her blood flowed. Volvar and Kuwangner would boogie, leaving the Unit 8 commander to bleed herself dry on the operating table, dying not with a scream, nor even a whimper.

            "_Fine_!" Boomer Kuwangner suddenly raged into his communicator from the other corner of the room, startling Volvar something fierce. The doctor dropped the stimulant on the floor, where it rolled under the operating table. "Just go ahead and _die _then!" Boomer finished, breaking the connection with his brother and storming over to Volvar. "He wants to be the big hero to his men. Bah! He's just going to be gutted with the rest of them!"

            "Sounds like you're genuinely worried about him," Volvar said with a frown, crouching down to look for the stimulant.

            "He _is _my brother," Kuwangner glowered as though the thought upset him. "Even I have some standards. I'm sure he'll realize his folly sooner or later. I know I did."

            "Mhm," Volvar replied in half-interest, reaching under the table and finally gripping the stimulant. "Here we go." He stood up slowly and turned to present his plans to Boomer, and he at once realized that something was dreadfully wrong.

            Boomer Kuwangner tensed for perhaps a fourth of a second before snapping into ninja-like reflex mode, grabbing his bloodied Boomerang Cutter from atop his head and flinging it over Volvar's head. The doctor, with wide eyes, dove out of the way and scanned the room frantically for signs of trouble.

            Even after years of special operations, Dantz was unprepared for Boomer's speed. The red Reploid was only able to stand and watch as the Boomerang Cutter sped towards him and ate a chunk out of his chest armor before beginning its return path to Boomer's hands. "Oh, you'll pay for that."

            Before Boomer could respond, a searing pain exploded in his back. He stumbled forward and felt behind him with his spindly arms, finally finding and removing the energy dagger Castle had planted there from afar. "Nice," Boomer said in genuine appreciation of the Hunter's craftiness, though his voice was still laced with hatred.

            Castle was about to respond, but what he saw stopped his words in his throat. Now that Boomer was out of the way, he had a full view of the operating table, and the sorry condition of its occupant.

            Damia was under a sea of numbness caused by the simple fact that the pain had become her whole being. As such it no longer bothered her with specific burning lances of agony, but was now just an endless fiery ache. It must be what hell felt like, she had decided, shortly before her mind surrendered to the red wave of mixed rage and madness. Every part of her active mind wanted one simple thing: to _move_. And then, once that simple but blissfully welcomed gesture was complete, she wanted to _destroy_. Pain pissed Damia off, but helplessness was even more infuriating to her, and that violent anger was all she'd been able to hang onto. But she could do none of that, all because of the machine humming above her head. That stupid, mindless automaton was what was going to kill her, and that was just even more humiliating.

            Castle was feeling most of that same rage. There wasn't a soul in the Hunter forces, X and Zero included, that Castle respected more than the woman who'd kept his small unit alive for all its years of existence, and if these _bastards _thought they could—

            Wait…there was only one bastard now.

            "Ah…ha ha," Boomer chuckled, when he realized what had happened to Volvar. "He always was a clever man, that doctor. A cloaking device plus a distraction equals an escape for him." The Maverick suddenly sprang into action, leaping at Castle and flicking his Boomerang Cutter at him in midair. "But there will be no such escape for _you_!"

            Castle dove out of the way, just as a sizzling beam of forked lightning escaped from Dantz's cannon and split the air in Kuwangner's flight path. But it had no effect…the Maverick was gone. "…Shit," Castle realized, spinning sharply to greet Kuwangner as he rematerialized behind him and shot his thin but powerful leg out into Castle's gut. "Ugh!"

            "Try that on me!" Dantz roared, running towards them.

            "This is easier," Kuwangner said tersely, throwing the Cutter Dantz's way. The big Reploid dodged it this time, but it arched back around Kuwangner further than usual and came back at Castle. The Hunter dove to the floor, launching a bolt of plasma up at Kuwangner, who leapt to the side as though he'd known the shot was coming all along. Dantz actually had to twist out of the way to avoid his comrade's shot. Castle jumped to his feet, feeling like an ass. He should have known better than that.

            Kuwangner cartwheeled out of the way, landing across the room, his Boomerang Cutter still twirling around him nonstop. There had to be magnetic poles at work here, both Hunters realized. Wherever Kuwangner moved, the Cutter spun around him without stopping. "Isn't it a nifty trick?" the Maverick gloated, laughing his raspy laugh. He warped near Dantz, and the annoyed Reploid had to throw himself out of the way again to avoid Kuwangner's martial arts and his deadly spinning blade.

            "Dantz!" Castle shouted. "Out of the way!"

            "What?" Kuwangner chuckled at Castle's bravado. "You think you can take me out?" His eyes smoldered with arrogance. "I killed your commander, now I'll kill you!"

            "Well, not after a comment like that," Castle snarled, moving now with speed that surprised even Kuwangner. The Hunter weaved in past the Cutter and struck at Kuwangner with his own series of martial arts. Kuwangner parried and retaliated with attacks of his own. He actually extended the radius of his Cutter so it wouldn't interfere with the little spar. "You're fast, for a little stick girl," Castle seethed.

            "You're capable, for a lousy mindless drone soldier," Boomer retorted gleefully. He launched a surprise uppercut, catching Castle by surprise and driving him back. "Unfortunately, I've lost interest in this little spat." With that he leapt into the air, and his Cutter closed in. Castle dropped to the floor, letting the weapon pass overhead as Dantz shot another thunderbolt at Kuwangner, who quickly warped out of the way and reappeared in front of Castle. "Now, meet your fate!" The Maverick Boss warped again, planning to drag his weapon clear through Castle as he warped past him.

            Castle, though, had one lifesaving advantage. The Aegis agent had in the Repliforce War been assigned to stop a renegade major officer named Mondo who wanted to use the Spaceport missiles on Hunter Headquarters to avenge Colonel's demise. When Castle and Mondo squared off, the Repliforce officer had confounded Castle with complex warp attacks, while freezing Castle's internal warp generator to prevent him from somehow copying the trick. It hadn't been enough, though, and after the bloodiest battle of his life Castle had come out on top…but X and Zero weren't the only Reploids who could copy weapons. Castle had taken from Mondo the program that had harassed the Hunter for most of the battle. It was a surge of energy that halted warp patterns in their paths, just before driving them backwards in the opposite direction. In a very Castle-like fashion, Castle had named it the "Rejection Projection", but screaming out the attack name now seemed somehow undignified, so he simply screamed profane words instead.

            A blinding flash filled the room, and Castle's face broke into a grin when he saw a cloud of particles flicker and jolt back into reality. Boomer Kuwangner let out a yelp of surprise as Castle's attack drove him backwards with a surge of energies. He landed in a heap in front of the operating table, and his head snapped up angrily towards Castle. "Oh, you'll pay for that, Hunter…you'll pay good." The Boomerang Cutter circled around him, its silver glint mirroring the menacing look in the Maverick's eyes. Castle and Dantz tensed for the coming attack.

            Then all three of them winced at the sound of steel shredding steel.

            Boomer was the first to react, beginning to tilt his head to see what had just happened. But in fact he _wasn't_ the first to react, because suddenly a train struck him from behind, wrapping its arms around his neck and strangling his air supply.

            Castle and Dantz both stood paralyzed when they realized what was going on—the Boomerang Cutter, when rotating around Kuwangner, had struck the machine responsible for Damia's paralysis. Faster than even Kuwangner could counter, the vengeance-starved Huntress had leapt from the table onto the Maverick's back, holding him in a death grip. Her mind wasn't functioning—all she knew was that motor skills were now accessible, and now it was time to kill things.

            "Impossible…!" Kuwangner was able to hiss before the pressure on his throat became too strong to allow words to escape. He heard Damia's heavy breathing and felt her wound pressed against his back. Actually shuddering, the Maverick turned to desperate measures, calling his Cutter to him to try and finish the job he started.

            "Commander!" Dantz roared, on the right, trying to raise the alert. "Watch it!"

            Damia didn't understand the words as much as she understood the voice, and twisted to the right to confront it, turning the struggling Kuwangner with her. At the same time the Boomerang Cutter swept in from that same right and tore into its master's midsection, giving him a cruel taste of his own medicine. This time it was the Maverick who couldn't scream due to his captor.

            Her energy gathered, Damia let out the shriek of rage she'd been denied while twisting her arms tighter around the Maverick's neck. She pushed her feet into the enemy's shoulder blades, pressed herself upwards, and wrenched Boomer Kuwangner's head clear off his shoulders.

            Castle stood still, still absorbing the events of the last few seconds. He watched as Kuwangner's headless corpse clattered awkwardly onto the floor. The head slipped from Damia's disinterested fingertips, rolling away from the body it used to control. The frenzied Huntress saw Castle in the distance and, of all things, made a rush at him. Castle backed up in surprise, knowing he'd never be able to cut off his superior's attack in time.

            Fortunately Dantz was on top of things. The big Reploid darted to Castle's aid, intercepting Damia and holding her down. "Commander!" he boomed next to her ear, reaching her. "Commander, it's us!" He glanced up to see Castle sprinting off to the side, looking for something. "It's over," he reassured her, feeling her resistance beginning to slacken.

            Castle returned with a syringe. "Of all the things," he said with a grimace, injecting his commander with the tranquilizer. Almost immediately she settled down, choking out what might have been an attempt at communication. "Shh," Castle whispered, trying to soothe her and feeling more or less overwhelmed by the situation. "Jesus _Christ_," he swore after seeing the wound Kuwangner and Volvar had created.            

            "Call Everett," Dantz took over, switching on his internal communicator. "I'll get Tiberius."

            "Brant," Castle buzzed his medic, taking Damia's trembling hand, not knowing what else to do. Where the hell was Delates when you needed the guy? "Get to the medical ward. The boss is…well, just get over here fast."

            "…Roger," the guerilla responded after a brief pause. "Deluge, Henry, let's go."

            Castle breathed a sigh of relief, glad to pass on responsibility to someone with a clue as to what to do. Then he noticed the deep frown etched into Dantz's face. "What? What is it?"

            "It's Tiberius," Dantz said, blinking. "I can't get a response."

            "Whuddya mean?" Castle blinked too. "No response?" The two stared at each other, mindful of the Huntress bleeding to death in between them and the tension that had just clouded the air. "You think something's happening?"

            "Yeah," Dantz breathed slowly, feeling dread even though he had no idea what was going on. "Yeah, I do."

            "Right…" Castle stood slowly, meandering his way over to Kuwangner, who stared up at him with dead eyes that looked as though they may blink at any second. Castle couldn't stand those eyes. He picked up the head, dropkicked it into a garbage can, and destroyed the whole thing with a blast from his arm cannon. He didn't even think to take Boomer's weapon. It wasn't one he ever wanted to see again, and he was pretty sure Damia would agree with him.

            "Something's coming," Dr. Ledyard whispered to Alan Seitz, staring blankly down the corridor.

            "You're right," Seitz agreed, reloading his pistol and heading for Tiberius. "Sir, do you hear it?"

            "Yeah," the chief medic replied, dropping his tools and gathering his protective detail. "Shit. Let's get the wounded to the back…I don't like where this is going."

            "Mason's been called in already," Lifesaver reminded him. "He's on his way here."

            "Let's hope he gets here fast," Tiberius muttered, taking up his rifle and turning on his communicator. "Archer, what's going on, here?"

            "Watch out, sir!" the commander's voice responded frantically. "They've broken through!"

            "Who?" Tiberius asked, frantic too.

            "Them!" Rykov exclaimed, whirling on the enemies with his cannon armed. Vulcan drew his saber, standing near the wounded in the corner, not about to let them be harmed.

            The Mavericks poured around a corner, Geddon leading the charge, and immediately the Hunter spirits sank. "_Shit_!" Tiberius roared, his pistol spurting flames. "Everyone who can fight, hold them off! The wounded won't stand a chance!"

            "No," Geddon agreed, snarling. "No, they won't." The massive humanoid raised his mace and began to advance.

            "Take out the big guy first," Ledyard suggested, unloading his machine pistols in Geddon's direction. The Maverick snarled again and raised his mace, which the adaman bullets did not penetrate. Immediately Ledyard's stomach sank. This was very bad.

            "Not on my watch!" Lifesaver declared, drawing a pistol of his own and shooting a Maverick through the head. The dichotomy of a healer terminating a life was lost on him.

            Tiberius also had no qualms about dropping a few of the advancing enemy. "They're not gonna stop," he realized, feeling the dread setting on.

            "Well we're not gonna make it easy for 'em!" Rykov said as he leveled his cannon at three approaching Mavericks. The cannon barrel flashed rapidly as his chain-gun cannon unloaded shot after shot into the surprised enemies, dropping all three.

            "Parlor tricks will get you nowhere," Geddon taunted, beginning his advance. His mace swung out and nearly plastered Alan Seitz against the wall. The human squirmed out of the way just in time, and Rykov redirected his fire at Geddon, who growled as the damage registered. "You'll pay for that."

            "Vulcan!" Tiberius said to the silver Hunter guarding the wounded. "Get them out of here!"

            "You heard the man," Carlton agreed, hoisting Nightchaser and leading Cain while Lifesaver dragged off the others. Vulcan glanced back, but Rykov and the other Unit 5 members Archer had left behind motioned for him to go on. Taking Krysta in his arms, he raced out the door, hoping he'd be able to return in time.

            "Runnin' away, eh?" Geddon smiled slowly. "Not if we have anything to say about it. Mavericks! CHARGE!"

            At the sound of Geddon's considerable voice, each Maverick broke out into a run at the Unit 5 troops, pushing them back much as they'd done to Archer minutes earlier.

            Tiberius watched in horror, knowing full well that they'd never be able to stop Geddon's onrush long enough for the wounded to get away. The doctor looked at Ledyard and Seitz, both of whom nodded their agreement. All at once, they rushed Geddon, Rykov firing at point blank, Ledyard shooting for the mace arm, and Seitz taking shots at the monster's head. Roaring in pain, Geddon staggered backwards, bringing his mace around to defend himself. Tiberius smiled and leveled his pistol at the humanoid's wounded shoulder joint, prepared to bring the whole arm off. Then something terrible happened.

            A flash of light erupted behind Tiberius, and with a cry of surprise the Hunter found himself flying through the air as though a baseball bat had smashed him…right towards Geddon. Seeing his chance, the strongman lashed out with his mace, catching Tiberius in the upper torso. A sickening crunch was heard, and the medic's bleeding, smashed body flew back and embedded itself in the back wall for a few seconds before sliding down to the floor, where it didn't move.

            "No," Ledyard breathed, stunned. "There's no way…"

            Seitz spun on his heel to see what in the world had launched Tiberius towards his executioner, and nearly choked when he saw who it was.

            "Shoulda killed me when you had the chance, boys!" Quasar cackled. Blood caked around his lips and his wounds were acting up fiercely, but the mad glint in his eyes informed them all that he didn't much mind.

            "You _bastard_!" Ledyard roared, raising his machine guns and preparing to demolish his boss's attacker, when all of a sudden Rykov barreled into him and knocked him out of the way just before Geddon's mace swept the air over them.

            "Lucky," Geddon allowed, growling, raising his mace again and glowering at Rykov and Ledyard on the floor before him. "But no one gets lucky twice."

            "Really!" a new voice piped up from the exit door. Before Quasar could turn around to acknowledge it, he quite simply exploded.

            "Jesus!" Geddon gasped, watching a cloud of flames erupt from where Quasar had once stood. It was much too big to have just come from a generator explosion. Then the flames died down, and he understood. "Oh, hell no…"

            "Hell yes," Alec Tremont shouted back with a cold smile, the happy end of his Rocket Propelled Grenade launcher still smoking. "Now, boys, we're cookin' with gas!"

            "God, am I glad to see you," Rykov breathed a sigh of relief as Alec stepped into the chamber. Bale and the other pilots followed, all of them armed.

            "You didn't think we were just sky-fighters, did ya?" Alec said as he busily reloaded his RPG, noting the advancing angry Mavericks. "Saw Vulcan and the others on the way out…sent 'em to the airfield. They'll be safe there if they make it."

            "Let's make sure that they do," Rykov said as he began to lay down cover fire to buy the pilot time to reload.

            Ledyard had rushed to Tiberius, and what he found was revolting: his boss's head was crushed in on one side. He'd probably died instantly, Dr. Ledyard knew, and his fists clenched around his weapon. "That bastard…"

            'That bastard' was about to reach the exit gate, when all of a sudden coils of red electricity grabbed him from behind. "Raaagh!" Geddon raged, spinning to confront the new threat. "You," he growled. "I'll send you to the same hell as your fellow commander there!"

            "Just try," Archer glowered, as the rest of Unit 5 poured in around him. The commander's sword pulsated with red energies, and he fixed Geddon with a look that clearly meant murder.

            "I'm afraid that pleasure belongs to me, Geddon," a new voice popped up. Before Archer could identify it, he felt his body go rigid and shudder as what felt like a steamroller passed over him. "A Gravity Well is a nifty toy," Gravity Beetle chuckled, hovering above the paralyzed Archer. "Almost brought down your base with them, but it seems your cohorts have deactivated them all by now. A shame…well, at least I can have this pleasure!"

            "Think again," Hawkins growled, emerging from the cloud of combatants and firing a shot right into the hovering Gravity Well, dropping it and freeing his commander. He then shot the Maverick, but Gravity's hard metal shell absorbed the shot without incident.

            "Is that the best you can offer?" Gravity taunted, churning energies with his fingertips. "Well, then there's no point in us sticking around, is there?" A black hole began to appear near the exit door, drawing all the Reploids towards it—Maverick and Hunter alike.

            "Shit," Archer growled, realizing what was happening. "They're gonna run!"

            "Fight!" Gravity shouted to his comrades. "Fight your way out! Run now! You don't have any other chance!" He sped in front of both Archer and Hawkins, cutting them off. "No you don't. I haven't finished with you yet!"

            "Says you," Archer retorted, dashing at the Maverick and slashing at his wings. Gravity sped to the side and blasted Archer into a wall with a well-timed gravity burst. He turned to Hawkins in time to see shots headed his way. A curtain of shimmering energies cloaked him, deflecting all the projectiles, and he rushed at the Hunter with blinding speed, slicing his pincer blades up to cut Hawkins in half. This time it was the Hunter who darted to the side, though awkwardly. Gravity prepared another rush to take him out.

            Then something happened that the Maverick had not counted on: screams. From outside.

            "Impossible!" Geddon raged, the disbelief obvious in his eyes as he received the transmissions. "They…they…!"

            "They have our number," Gravity realized, hearing shouts of "They're outside!" "Another Unit!" and "Man down!" There was another Hunter unit waiting..._outside _the base.

            Archer and the Hunters were conversely elated. Mason hadn't come through the base like he'd been originally ordered to—Zion must have redirected him _around _the base to the south exit to cut off the Mavericks escaping there once Zion realized where Gravity was leading his squad.

            Seconds later Zion himself appeared, leading the main Hunter force. He really _had_ been right behind Gravity. The chamber began to fill up with Hunters, far more than the Mavericks could handle. Gravity felt all his remaining spirits crash. So it had come to this, had it? A slaughterhouse, after all? He watched his soldiers fighting to escape through the single exit, killing both Hunters and each other for a chance to live out the day. Those that did get out were met with fire from Mason's unit. Some escaped through teleportation, but most just died. Geddon, seemingly invincible when this had all started, had evoked the wrath of every Hunter by killing Tiberius, and now was beginning to falter. Boomer had been right…he _would _die here tonight.

            But unlike Boomer, Gravity decided to die in a way he could be proud of. Flying as though in a trance, the heavily armored beetle Reploid approached a wall far from the scrambling Mavericks but still close to the exit door. He ignored the shots from Hawkins, Archer, Zion and the others, in fact welcoming them. It made what he was about to do easier. Slowly but surely he removed the safeties on all his internal systems and began to gather more energy than his body could support. "Geddon," he patched through to his comrade. "Get them out of here." His last words.

            Gravity Beetle transformed himself into a raging ball of fire, and transformed most of the nearby wall into a gateway to freedom. Understanding, Geddon pushed back the apprehension that came with losing the person who told you what to do and stomped over to the new exit, bashing away remaining residue with his mace and booming for others to follow. Immediately Mavericks tore themselves away from the south gate and rushed to the hole Gravity's self-destruction had created.

            "No!" Zion shouted, waving the Hunters towards the fleeing Mavericks. "Plug the hole! Don't let them get away! Take them down! Take them all down!" And this was more or less what happened.

            "Well who knew," a somewhat awed Hawkins said quietly to his commander, who had stayed put instead of rushing with the others to track down the enemy. "There's still a shred of nobility among them."

            "Who knew," Archer agreed in a voice that carried no emotion. "And it doesn't look like anyone cares, either."

            Screams still came from inside the base and out in the snow, screams from downed Hunters and Mavericks alike, screams that had become the standard sound during the night and now during the day. To some, the anguish and hatred had started blurring into a song of sorts. It was a song sung by the Maverick Hunters as they exacted justice for the nuclear attacks. It was a song sung also by the Mavericks warping and running as fast as they could, or dying in the snow as a result of their failure. It was a song sung especially by civilians mourning their dead among the ruined portion of Megacity 5. It was a song sung joyfully by looters and criminals, taking advantage of destroyed buildings to rob already devastated innocents of their belongings. It was a song echoed maniacally by Malevex, fighting X and Zero to the death in the bowels of Seraph Castle. And it was sung loudest of all by those in power, by General Virdelko and his associates, by Marcus Raleigh and his Megacity government, by Signas and Cain, all of whom joined in the common refrain: how had they let things go so wrong?

            At eleven thirty a.m. in Megacity 5, the blizzard broke. Two heavy clouds parted long enough for a ray of sunlight to touch down on the landscape, illuminating for the heavens what the city had to show for itself. It illuminated only blood.


	46. Freedom's Ring

**Chapter 45: Freedom's Ring**

The lights were out in Seraph Castle.

            Darkness mingled with silence, pervading every inch of the deserted Maverick fortress. All remaining troops had bailed after receiving an emergency signal from Commander Malevex. It had been interesting to them that it was Malevex giving the order and not Sigma, but not one had complained, fleeing from their duties like flies from a swatter.

            The residents were gone, yes, but their essence was not. Much blood had been spilled during the night, and had the moon been allowed to infiltrate the windowless fortress it would doubtless have found some of the reddish material painting the walls. Some bodies still lay askew in corners or in the middle of floors. In the basement, Feldspar lay forever sleeping against a wall, and near him sat the dormant Godkarmachine, still occasionally sparking as its Ares-enhanced systems tried to fully shut themselves down. Voices seemed to reverberate through the cursed hallways, voices screaming in shock and pain, whispering secrets to the darkness, darkness that was still strongest in the small stretch of hallway containing what little remained of Gredam. All in all, the world's major Maverick stronghold had become a haunted mansion sitting as the largest jewel in a crown of snowy mountains. It was the ghost town of the Catskills, abandoned by all but its phantasms.

            Abandoned, all but for two places in which, for the time being, Reploids still drew breath. The phantasms gathered around, consuming the darkness like popcorn. Fate was to be decided at last, and they wouldn't miss it even for life itself.

            "There…that corner." Lyon rasped the words with great effort. Most of his internal fluids now lay behind him, forming a messy line leading back to the spot where Sigma's lightsaber had been driven clear through the demolitions expert's body. The E-Tank he'd drained was keeping him active, but it was clear to them all that he'd be dead shortly if he didn't receive some kind of proper medical attention. Acrystos knew basic field surgery—an Aegis prerequisite—but this was no basic surgery. Lyon knew he was in trouble, but that didn't seem to interfere in the least with the big Reploid's determination. They had two bombs left to set, and Lyon was determined to stick around at least until that task was finished.

            "Let me," Tyclammel said, taking the bomb from Lyon. Supporting his comrade with one arm and planting the bomb with the other, the orange Hunter's brow crinkled in intense concentration. Lyon talked him through the procedure, and in seconds another bomb was operational, waiting for the order to explode and eliminate the foundation of Seraph Castle.

            "It's quiet," Lyon observed, shortly before breaking into a rattling cough.

            "I don't think so," Tyclammel shook his head, slapping his choking comrade on the back while finishing with the bomb. His head tilted towards the central chamber in the maze-like core level. Acrystos and Delates had vanished inside it and had yet to reappear. "Something's happening in there."

            "Let them come," the stricken Cort growled, leaning against a wall for support while holding both revolvers at the ready. His chest wounds were no less bloody, but his nanomachines were working overtime and it looked as though he wasn't in any life threatening peril.

            "Famous last words," Tyclammel observed sullenly, hearing footsteps echo from the nearest side path.

            Seconds later Delates and Acrystos sprinted out of the darkened corridor, each wearing an expression of grave urgency. "We need to leave," Delates said through his heavy breathing. "Now."

            "Right now," Acrystos added, looking even more nervous now than she had when she'd been in Kismet's captivity.

            "What is it?" Tyclammel had to ask. "What are we running from?"

            "It's…" Delates started to say, but a remarkably heavy _clank _from behind stopped him cold. The emerald Hunter turned to face the darkness he'd just emerged from, where more _clanks _resonated like metallic thunder. "Well, it's here already," Delates finished flatly.

            From out of the shadows came a machine that at first glance did not strike terror into any of the Hunters' souls. They were intimidated by its size, for sure, and recognized its polished white chrome armor as the threat it was, but of terror there was none. The machine was humanoid in everything except details. It was an eight foot tall walking ghost, a sturdy white creature with no distinctions—no muscles, no trimmings, no anything, save for a single red orb in the center of its head, a head that merged directly to the torso without anything resembling a neck. It made no sound other than the whir of its gears as it lifted its long legs for another step, each of which culminated in a heavy _clank_. Its arms did not move as it walked, nor did its waist, making its movement look comical at first glance, like some grossly exaggerated goosestep. It had been created by Hayatom Industries as a sentinel and sold to the Mavericks by the ever-vigilant Gold Serpent, Chartreuse. It was known only as the Android, a humanoid automaton programmed for one thing—the elimination of intruders.

            "Christ on stilts," Tyclammel breathed.

            "Let's hope not," Acrystos replied quietly.

            Delates and Tyclammel had the same thought at the same time, stepping forward and opening fire at the enemy's torso. Mini-missiles swarmed from Tyclammel's cannon while Delates unleashed a continuous plasma barrage. The shots exploded against Android's chest, creating a thick cloud of smoke…

            …Out of which eventually came a thin red laser light that fell on Delates' chest.

            "Shit," the Hunter managed to gasp before a thick white arm shot out of the smoke and smashed into his breastplate, throwing him clear across the hallway and crunching a fist-shaped indentation in his jade armor.

            "What in the name of Light…" Cort said with wide eyes as, with a telltale _clank_, the Android appeared again. Its chest armor was charred and some of it was missing, but it didn't operate like it was any worse for the wear. The red gem in its head flickered on once more, emitting another laser light that targeted Acrystos near the wall.

            "Move!" Tyclammel yelled, but Acrystos was already moving. She was just in time. Android's fist put a hole in the adaman wall where her head had just been.

            "What is it?" Lyon slurred as Tyclammel dragged him backwards and away from the opal titan. "I'll take 'em…lemme at 'em!"

            "No, you won't," his comrade responded. "We've got to worry about the bombs. There's one more, right Lyon? One more bomb?"

            "Bombs…" Lyon's mind snapped back into focus. "The bombs. Yes…one more…but it's different from the others. Once they're all set I have to…coordinate them…"

            "Well let's move." Tyclammel half-dragged his ruined friend backwards. "It's the far corner, right? Sorry, but there's a big pasty tightass in the way. We're gonna have to cut down the center path."

            Acrystos, meanwhile, had guided the mostly recovered Cort to where Delates was peeling himself off the floor. "You all right?"

            "I'll live," Unit 0's acting commander said, forcing himself not to cough up blood. "We've gotta draw its attention…otherwise Lyon'll never make it to his target."

            "Leave it to me," the Aegis agent nodded, drawing her pistol and firing a bolt of energy into the Android's damaged chest. The stun effect took hold, spreading an electrical cage over the Android's body that should have stopped it cold.

            _Clank. Clank._

            The damned thing was still coming.

            "It just slows it down," Cort observed somberly.

            "It's better than nothing," Delates declared, charging his cannon to its highest level. "Get back. Stay out of arm's length!"

            As though it had heard them and wanted to challenge them, the Android stopped moving entirely, gazing at them through its one blood-red eye. Its chest gave off occasional tempting sparks, inviting Delates to take a shot. This the Hunter did, unleashing a screaming wave of plasma that ate into the Mechaniloid's exposed chest and created a blinding flash of light.

            _Clank. Clank._

            "Impossible!" Delates roared in frustration and apprehension, backing up further.

            "No, it's taking damage," Cort insisted as the Android reappeared, its chest armor looking somewhat spent. "It's just designed not to show it."

            "Scare tactics," Acrystos realized, just as the Android's laser eye sighted her again.

            This time it happened faster than lightning. The normally clunky Android's internal systems gave a loud whir and it shot forward like a bullet. With surprising agility it used its long legs to full advantage in an expansive stride that closed the distance between it and Acrystos before the Huntress had a chance to contemplate what was happening. The next thing she knew, the Android had caught her waist with one of its massive hands, and so began the most ridiculously powerful vice-grip she'd ever experienced. The Huntress immediately lost all ability to breathe, and her eyes and mouth widened in horrified shock as she felt her spine buckle to the Android's physical might. Her internal skeleton was giving off crunching sounds, though the crushing numbness prevented her from feeling the white-hot lances of pain.

            "No!" Delates couldn't let it happen. He couldn't lose _another _comrade tonight. He switched to his lightsaber and rushed towards the Android, oblivious to Cort's protests, and drew a deep line in what passed for the Android's waist. The enemy did not make any sound. It did not even turn to acknowledge Delates. It was amazing how strong the armor was, Delates noted, just before the Android's other hand smashed him into the wall he'd been backing towards earlier. The world turned to a blur and a horrible headache seized him, but he somehow forced himself onto his knees, turning back to watch Acrystos die.

            Cort, however, was not licked just yet. The gunman brought up one of his revolvers, held in both hands, and with fiercely determined but nevertheless unwavering skill tried to save Acrystos's life for the second time with tactics that were just as questionable as the first time. The revolver's barrel exploded once, and an adaman bullet slammed into the Android's highest knuckle. The finger went just slightly slack. A second explosion—another slackened finger. Another, and another—Cort's precision was, luckily for Acrystos, perfect as usual.

            The struggling Huntress sensed her chance and with the energy of one who is fighting for their life tore herself free from the Android's considerable grasp. As she fell she drew one of her energy daggers and sliced upward, catching the Android's wrist and actually making the machine recoil. She learned why a second later, when the hand shot out again down towards her. She rolled sharply to the side and the floor next to her exploded as the Android's fist tore through it. Steel peppered her back like shrapnel and she inhaled sharply in pain. She drew an even sharper breath when she saw the Android's other fist coming down.

            This fist stopped right in its tracks, again thanks to Cort. The Hunter had darted into position in front of the Android and leveled his weapon right at the monster's forehead. A single shot destroyed the red gem and thus the laser light targeting, and this by some miracle caused the Android to pause while it reanalyzed its situation. Cort darted in daringly through the two stationary arms and, ignoring the pain from his own wounds, dragged Acrystos out of range.

            "Cort," Delates wheezed, on his feet at last. "When we get back, you're getting _so _many beers."

            "You're still a motivator," the gunman observed with half a smile despite the situation.

            "Thanks," Acrystos managed, before the pain caused by her splintered structure registered. "Holy _shit_," she hissed, slumping against the wall.

            "Not you too," Delates groaned. "We're a sorry bunch…everyone but Tyclammel's wounded, and he's with Lyon…they'd better—"

            _Clank._

            "MOVE IT!" Delates finished, grabbing both Cort and Acrystos and dragging them out of the way as the Android started its prowl again.

            Tyclammel felt his breathing grow heavier every second. He heard the sounds of battle from across the room, more specifically Delates' yelling and Cort's familiar revolvers in action. Then all the sounds stopped. "No," he let slip as a coil of dread snaked around inside of him. "It can't have…"

            …_Clank. …Clank._

            It was still alive.

            _Clank. Clank._

            It had turned around. "Dammit!" Tyclammel swore, turning to Lyon. The demo expert was oblivious to it all, Ty noted almost whimsically. He was so involved with setting and calibrating this last bomb that he had no idea what was coming for them. But then, he did, didn't he, the orange Hunter realized with some shame. Death had been knocking on Lyon's door for a while now, but the Hunter simply hadn't opened the door. Soon enough, though, Death would break it down on its own.

            _Clank. Clank._

            "But not just yet," Tyclammel promised himself, turning towards the noise. Then he became aware of other footsteps coming from the center path. "Boy am I glad to see you," the Hunter breathed a huge sigh of relief at the sight of his comrades.

            "Don't rejoice yet," Cort said, shaking his head. "It's still coming."

            "Lyon," Delates said to his weakening comrade. "How much longer?"

            "It's almost done," the big Hunter replied. His voice sounded terribly weak, Delates thought.

            _Clank clank. Clank clank._

            "It's here," Acrystos moaned, holding her energy daggers up while wondering what the hell good they'd do her.

            "Let me at it," Tyclammel said, hoping he sounded convincing.

            _Clank clank. Clank clank clank clank clank._

            "It's _running_!" Delates gasped.

            "God of humans, make yourself useful," Tyclammel prayed, watching the end of the hallway. The second Android's white frame appeared, rushing around the corner from the left, Tyclammel unleashed a concentrated spray of missiles. Unprepared for the assault, the Android reeled and lost its balance, falling into the right wall with a mighty crash.

            Another crash immediately demanded the Hunters' attention—Lyon had slumped to the floor.

            "Shit!" Delates swore, grabbing his friend and hoisting him back up. "Lyon! Lyon, you there?!"  
            "Green switch," the bomber rasped. "Do it…do it now!"

            "Green switch," Acrystos echoed, hitting the proper button.

            "There," Lyon said with a smile, taking a control box from his belt and handing it to Delates. "Use this later…for detonation."

            "You can do it yourself," Delates insisted, though they all noted that he took the box anyway. "Let's go, before that thing gets up!"

            The five Hunters trekked quickly back to the floor's entrance, a long dark hallway that ended with a freight elevator that wasn't there anymore. "Sigma must have called it up," Cort observed as they got closer. "We can climb up the elevator shaft."

            But they couldn't. Killing lasers crisscrossed the shaft all the way up.

            _"SHIT!"_ Tyclammel roared, spinning around nervously. "What the hell do we do _now_?"

            "Wait," Acrystos said hopefully, approaching the control panel. It was disabled as far as calling down the elevator, but… Without offering an explanation, Acrystos used a dagger to pry the covering off the control panel and began to rearrange the wires inside. A metal cable popped out of her wrist gauntlet and she attached it to a plug inside the control box, jacking herself in.

            "What are you doing?" Delates finally asked.

            "When Castle and I went into the Spaceport to sabotage the Repliforce vessels," she explained while working frantically, "Major Mondo had already set up his security force there. He'd used a system very similar to this, and I…I'm pretty sure I can hack into it."

            "How long?" Tyclammel asked frantically. "How long?!"

            "However long it takes," Acrystos said, forcing emotion out of her voice. She didn't want them to hear her fear.

            _Clank. Clank._

            "It won't be in time," Cort realized. "Someone has to stall that thing."

            _Clank clank. Clank clank._

            "Let's go," Delates said to Tyclammel. "We'll lead it around the perimeter and come right back."

            "No," Acrystos protested sharply. "Listen! By the time you leave the hall it'll intercept you!"

            "She's right," Cort observed, very quietly.

            "I've almost got it," Acrystos went on, working all the more feverishly. "I'm into the security node…"

            "Ugh…" Lyon choked, still slumped against Delates. "Let me…fight it."

            "You save your strength," Delates ordered, charging his cannon.

            "Delates," Lyon said firmly, forcing himself to his feet and arming his bazooka cannon. "Unit 0 is made of warriors…all we ask is to die a warrior's death. Is that not right?" He looked right into his friend's eyes. "Feldspar had his. Don't you dare rob me of mine. Zero would agree," he added, much to sagely for Delates' liking.

            "Here it comes!" Tyclammel announced as Android appeared in their line of sight. The behemoth turned, saw them, and began its death sprint down the hall.

            "Shit," Acrystos swore, ignoring the pain stabbing at her insides and putting her all into cracking the code. "Shit, shit, shit…"

            "You've got ten seconds," Cort estimated, reloading his used revolver and bringing the other one up to bear with it.

            "All together," Delates said, raising his cannon. "Now!"

            A giant bolt of plasma. A storm of small missiles. Twelve adaman bullets placed in a perfect line across the "neck". A menacing, flaming ball of artillery. All these things struck the Android, blinding the Hunters with light and slamming the Android against a wall, filling the hall with the screaming sound of metal scraping across metal.

            _Clank…clank…clank clank clank._

            "Damn you, Sigma," Delates said, numb, as the Android somehow continued its march, smoking and sparking from extreme wounds but approaching nonetheless. They had failed. "Damn you to hell."

            "I've got it!" Acrystos announced suddenly, the lasers flickering off as she said so. "Move! Now!"

            "It's too late," Delates knew, though he retreated with the rest of them, leaping onto the wall and preparing to scale it with the climbing unit ingrained in every Reploid. He sensed Android's fist approaching from behind and he knew he couldn't possibly escape it, but still he tried. What else could he do?

            The thundering crunch came, but no pain came with it. Nor was there any force involved. Instead of being hit by a freight train, Delates hadn't been hit at all. _What had happened?_ He turned to see…

            …And there was Lyon, impaled on the Android's huge fist, which had punched clear through his body. The demolitions man had interposed himself between the Android and his commander at the last minute.

            "Lyon!" Delates gasped, his buster coming alive again.

            "No," Lyon shook his head forcefully before gritting his teeth against the pain as the Android hoisted him up higher. "Delates…remember…remember!"

            Delates did remember. He couldn't take this from Lyon. Damn it all, but he couldn't take this death from his friend. He knew Zero would understand. So why couldn't he?  
            Wordlessly the acting commander gazed his last at his comrade and returned to the wall, scaling it quickly without allowing himself to look back. It was Lyon's choice, he told himself. He was going to die anyway, and this was how he'd chosen to go out.

            The Android looked at its catch through its dead eye. Lyon somehow managed to grin at it, even as his systems went into hyperdrive. They screamed warnings at him but he ignored them all, increasing his power intake even more. "As long…as I'm here," the Hunter croaked, quoting Sigma. "I might as well…kill…one of you…" His generator went critical as his self-destruct mechanism came to life. "…And I…pick…

            …_You_."

            The explosion rocked the whole fortress, and nearly spilled Mega Man X flat on his face.

            "What in the hell?" the champion Hunter asked of the darkness, even as Zero brought him back up to his feet.

            "Whatever it is there's nothing we can do about it," the crimson swordsman said curtly, resuming his brisk sprint. "We've got to hurry."

            "Right," X agreed, dashing after his friend. "Sigma won't be here much longer. You're sure you know where he is?"

            "Malevex gave me a tracking unit along with that special attack of his," Zero explained, rounding a corner on the second ring with X close behind. He didn't sound the least bit winded and despite the considerable wounds he'd sustained throughout the past 24 hours he seemed good as new. Nothing, X knew, was going to get in his way now. And he shared the sentiment. They had to stop Sigma…at any cost.

            "How's your arm?" Zero asked as they ran.

            "It's repairing itself," X replied, glancing at the hole in his gauntlet, courtesy of that same Malevex. "The Buster arm is fine, and that's all that matters." They ran a little farther before X spoke again. "You're sure you can trust him?"

            "Do we really have a choice?" Zero replied, hiding his annoyance. "If there's even a chance that Sigma may escape with a warhead, we have to investigate it. Besides…I severely doubt Malevex was lying to us back there."

            "So do I," X admitted, breaking some ice. They ran a little longer, and then Zero decided to shatter the rest of it.

            "I know you still don't understand."

            "Actually," X responded thoughtfully, "I think I do."

            "Do you?"

            "Yes." X took a deep breath, sensing the logical solution he'd been searching for within his grasp. "You see Terrornova as another Repliforce. Like the Repliforce uprising, humans and Hunters caused the Terrornova uprising. Unlike the Repliforce uprising, though, you wanted to spare the enemy…to make up for what happened last time." It was dangerous territory, but X felt daring enough to go there tonight.

            "That's more or less it," Zero acknowledged heavily. Then he actually laughed. "I'm sure that one day soon I'll wake up and think, 'Jesus! I released nuclear terrorists! What the hell is wrong with me?' But I still had to do it…you know?"

            "I understand," X said truthfully. "Weird as it all is, I get it." His eyes darkened. "And just as with Repliforce…it was Sigma pulling the strings all along."

            "Yes." Zero fairly growled the word. "It's just as personal, too."

            "How so?"

            "Last time he arranged for me to kill the woman I loved. This time he tried destroying my mind from within when I wouldn't do something similar again." Zero had never actually flatly told X that he'd loved Iris—his friend _knew_, of course, but it had never actually been said—and Zero had thought he'd be more reserved about it. But he wasn't. Secrets didn't matter today. He wondered how far he could go with that. "Do you know why he's so interested in us, X?"

            "I always figured it was because we keep killing him in nasty ways."

            "That's a part of it. For you, he just wants revenge. For me…"

            "He's always trying to get you to change sides." X felt something coming. Zero rarely ever divulged personal secrets, but when he did X could sense them coming. "Why is that?"

            "Hmph." Zero took a while to gather the right words. "Did you know I was originally a Maverick?"

            He'd half-suspected it, though he'd had no reason to, and the truth of it didn't affect X as much as he'd supposed it would. "No, I didn't," he replied in an even tone.

            "It's unofficial, but it's true. I don't know if you were hanging around the Hunters yet when it happened…a Maverick took out a whole Hunting unit, and Sigma himself was sent in to stop him." Zero took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I was that Maverick. I met Sigma in battle in an old warehouse. He managed to defeat me, but not before I tore his arm off and inflicted other injuries on him." He left out the part about the Virus, since he himself didn't fully understand all that.

            "I've heard that story," X said, somewhat reverently. "You're the one who gave Sigma his scars, then." 

"Yeah. I don't know why he kept them. Probably to remind himself that his ass was indeed kickable."

A sudden laugh escaped X's lips. "I would never have suspected you. I mean, you and Sigma were always so buddy-buddy around each other. I'd have figured he'd be terrified of you after that, or at least apprehensive, but he never showed the slightest hint of uneasiness around you."

            "Probably because I wasn't the same person," Zero offered. "I was one of those frothing-at-the-mouth Mavericks, one of the madmen with no real mind to call their own. Somehow during the battle Sigma knocked my neural unit back into place…or maybe Cain fixed me when Sigma dragged me back to the Headquarters."

            "Why did Sigma do that?"

            "Probably because he wanted my power for his side. It's ironic…if he'd have just left me alone, he'd be better off today. Anyway, Sigma wasn't afraid of me because I was thinking with my own mind. He trained me himself. He taught me everything I know about swordplay, even though I opted for the buster early on. He knew the power I possessed, and wanted to bring it back out now that I could consciously control it." The Hunter grinned toothily. "Turned out all I needed for that to happen was his revolution, when I helped you kick his ass."

            "So the padwan refused to follow his master."

            "Yup. And I've never regretted it."

            "But Sigma hasn't given up," X finished the story. "He's still trying to convert you, while trying to eliminate me at the same time." It was X's turn to grin. "You'd think Final Weapon would have taught him that he can't win that two-front war."

            "His mistake," Zero said, allowing himself another grin. Then his expression became more serious. "You don't hold any of this against me?"

            "Why should I?" Zero's fear was reasonable and X knew it, but he was still slightly offended by the question. "You blew yourself up for the Hunter cause. If that's not a strong enough gesture, I don't know what is. Now you're trying to change what you are, the very thing I've been trying to do since the wars started. I know exactly what you're dealing with." He smirked. "Never thought of it that way, did you?"

            "No," Zero admitted, "I hadn't." Anything else he was about to say was canceled out by a sudden newsflash. "X…this hallway. At the end is the freight elevator."

            "And with it, Sigma and the Marauder," X realized.

            "Listen," Zero shushed his friend, pointing to the end of the hall. "It's rising. Sigma must have recovered the Spare."

            "Let's go, then," X said, powering up his Emergency Acceleration System while Zero did the same. "You know what we're facing?"

            "Colonel Jones showed me a schematic at Alden Base," Zero replied, shivering. "It's not a pretty picture. X74-Marauder, a bipedal ride armor that is humanoid but only vaguely so. Its right arm is a wicked sword that can be charged with voltage so it has the lightsaber effect. Its left arm is a high caliber machine gun comparable to the one our Ravens use. Its lower back hosts a domed propulsion unit that gives it flight capability. Oh yeah, and its upper back sports a launcher that sends out homing missiles."

            "Gee, is that all?"

            "Nope. It can also activate an electrical curtain to discourage idiots like us from touching it."

            "How the _hell _did Jones let this thing get stolen?" asked a thoroughly cowed X.

            "The Gold Serpent works in mysterious ways," Zero quipped in a monotone. "There was some good news, though—Marauder relies on two radar units implanted in both shoulders. Plus, it doesn't turn very well."

            "So in an elevator," X clarified, "we have the advantage because it's tight quarters…and we're even better off if we eliminate the radar." He blinked. "But then what? What do we target?"

            "It beats me, X my boy, it beats me good." Zero grinned. "But when has that ever stopped us before?"

            A second later they did see something that stopped them—Reploid remains.

            "That's him," X answered Zero's wordless question.

            "Jesus, they immolated him," Zero observed, staring at what was once Gredam, Maverick Commander. "But I guess that makes sense," he added, remembering Mortar's story.

            "Huh?"

            "If they killed themselves, the big shots would revive them just to kill them off again. They had to neutralize the control chips so that wouldn't happen."

            "Brutal," X said, visibly recoiling. A sudden weight fell upon his chest. "I…really didn't mean to…"

            "I know." Zero shook it off. "Considering the odds, it's amazing that things turned out as well as they did." The sound of the freight elevator grew louder. Zero looked up at the nearby doors. "Now, then…let's vaporize the one who actually has it coming."

            "Yes," X agreed, charging his arm cannon to its highest level and approaching the doors. "Let's." He and Zero had each restored one E-Tank thanks to a hidden supply alcove, again courtesy of the map Malevex had transferred to Zero with the Triple Nova sword attack. X's Nova Strike was barely at half power, but he could do nothing about that. Zero's Rakkuoha was in no better shape, but again there was little that could be done. The Hunters figured they were as ready as they were going to be.

            Three seconds…two seconds…one second…and there it was, X knew—the elevator had reached their floor.

            The doors vanished as X's extreme plasma blast barreled through them, and without looking back the heroes of the free world leapt through the flames into the final battle of the Seraph Castle uprising.

            Two large windows on the second ring's balcony shattered, and a rappelling line found its way out. Acrystos secured it to the catwalk and down the Hunters climbed to the snowy earth below. There were only four now to the six who'd entered, a fact that weighed heavily on them all, but it was impossible to recover their control chips. They'd died the death they'd dreamed of, though—soldiers fighting to the bitter end.

            It made it no easier for Delates, who felt that it was his own failure that led to both tragedies. The group leader released the line and fell the fifteen feet the line didn't cover, sinking to his waist in the snow below. Too haggard to even swear, the elite Hunter waded through the white sea like an explorer on his way to the North Pole. Tyclammel followed him, then Cort, then Acrystos, who didn't bother collecting her line. Rather she caught up with Delates as soon as possible. "It wasn't your fault, you know."

            "Of course I know," he replied, sans emotion. "Don't make it any easier."

            "X and Zero are taking care of the bastards as we speak," she reassured him. "Feldspar and Lyon died stopping nuclear terrorism…what more could you ask of them?"

            "I know," he reiterated. "But you're not the one who has to tell Zero that you took what remained of his unit into Seraph Castle and came out minus two."

            "You really think he'll hold that against you?"

            He really didn't, but before he could answer his eyes caught something in the distance. It was black as night due to the clouds, but he paid attention anyway, switching to infrared and seeing, far in the distance, life. "What in the hell…?"

            "I see it," Acrystos concurred, stepping forward. "Lots of them…they're way out of range, though."

            "Mavericks," Tyclammel scoffed, shivering violently and watching the lines of refugees fleeing their former home. "Who the hell cares about them at this point? The big shots will have stayed to fight X."

            "True," Delates agreed, though something still seemed off. "Well, they're out of range anyway…I wonder where they all go, when their uprisings are crushed?"

            "Off to caves to hide, no doubt," Acrystos snarled. If she had the proper weapons, she'd have cut the runaways down then and there.

            "Again," Tyclammel sputtered, "W-who the h-hell c-cares?"

            "I have to agree with Ty on this one," Cort said, managing to keep most of the chatter out of his teeth. God, he missed his coat. "Let's get to a safe distance and contact X…the sooner we blow this place and go home, the better."

            "Yeah," Delates agreed. "Let's go."

            The phantasms liked these developments. Fate was reaching its climax at last. They clustered in groups, the minions of the darkness, fighting for a front row seat in the event of their afterlives. The Maverick King versus the Hunter Champions. Would history repeat itself, they wondered? Or would it take a sudden wrenching turn? Eagerly they watched, waited, salivated in anticipation.

            Outside the sun was finally setting on the Day of the Buzzbombs. It had never really come out in the first place, thanks to the blizzard, but it set nevertheless, perhaps, thought the phantasms, symbolizing the fall of something or someone else. There was only one way to find out. The Seraph's halo was finally going to break…but how much would be standing after the collapse? Pay-Per-View could only dream of this stuff, they all thought in unison.

            The first thing X and Zero noticed when they landed on the wide, circular freight elevator platform was a whole lot of nothing. The area was much wider than they'd anticipated, but still granted them the tight-quarters advantage. The problem seemed to be the lack of an opponent. Both their stomachs sank in unison at the thought that Sigma had already escaped, and that the whole thing had been a decoy.

            Then they were confronted with a whole lot of something.

            X heard it before he saw it—a mechanical _hiss_ signifying the movement of something large. "Zero…GET DOWN!"

            His partner complied just in time. A large blade whisked by overhead, its attempt at decapitation foiled by X's last second warning. "Don't tell me," Zero said with a dry mouth, getting carefully back to his feet.

            "Cloaking," X confirmed, switching to infrared. Immediately his face changed into a mask of amazement. "Oh, great merciless hell…"

            The first thought to cross X's mind was, it had nothing on Kaiser Sigma. That was the good news. Then came the bad—it was amazing beyond belief that humans had ever conceived of such a battle body and then let the damn thing get stolen by a crook like the Gold Serpent.

            X74-Marauder was a bipedal monster that only vaguely resembled anything humanoid. Its head was a tiny cockpit dome guarded by an energy shield. It sat atop a massive, angular torso from which huge shoulder epaulets jutted. These were the links to the deadly arms Zero had described earlier. The right arm ended with a long, heavy silver blade. The left arm vaguely resembled an arm cannon, only with an ammo feed and many large barrels at the end. It was indeed a machine gun similar to those used on fighter jets, X reflected grimly. Marauder was somewhat squat, with two steel thighs that angled diagonally downward before the legs jutted down vertically. It reminded X of a two-legged spider. On Marauder's back there was the promised missile launcher, though X didn't suppose Sigma would use that in the elevator shaft of all places. Its lower back domed outward to form a cape of sorts, under which turbo-thrusters lurked to propel the machine into the air. X couldn't see the radar in the shoulder guards, but he knew they had to be there. Aside from that the only other thing that caught the Hunter's attention was Marauder's thin waist, gray instead of the chrome gold armor that covered the rest of the monstrosity's frame.

            "Cheap shot, Sigma!" Zero taunted, seeing what X saw with his own infrared. "That all you're good for?"

            Sigma responded by bringing the Marauder closer to Zero's position. The big ride armor groaned slightly as its stationary legs came to life, smashing against the floor as they moved towards the crimson Hunter. Zero growled a challenge and dashed to the right, hoping to circle around the machine. Sigma redirected his path, closing in on Zero's direction and raising his sword arm to block the path. Zero merely switched directions, zooming around Sigma's left flank.

            "Slow and steady won't win this race," the Hunter taunted again.

            This time the Marauder responded by twisting its upper body almost halfway around, bringing the sword arm flying towards a surprised Zero. The blade crackled with energies, and though Zero dropped to the floor before the attack struck bolts of energy remained in the air after the sword. Without thinking, Zero stood up.

            While his partner writhed in electrical pain, X finished charging his cannon and sent the massive blast flying into Marauder's left shoulder. A last minute move by the ride armor resulted in less than perfect accuracy, but the machine did lurch forward when the attack exploded into it. Recognizing X's intention, Sigma activated Marauder's thrusters and shot himself backwards towards the Hunter, who barely managed to dash out of the way.

            "He's taking position at the center!" X announced unnecessarily.

            "My bright little friend," Sigma's voice rasped from an external voice box. It had a certain metallic hollowness to it. "Are you always so…_enlightened?_"

            Before X could apply, Marauder's left arm leveled in his direction. The Hunter didn't even have time to swear before the machine gun erupted with both thunder and lightning, blinding and deafening the Hunters with flashes and reports as the monstrous rounds of ammunition exploded into the wall of the shaft behind them. The Marauder began to twist at the waist, drawing a horizontal line of fire leading from X to Zero. Both Hunters reacted by racing around the side of the massive ride armor. Seeing this, Sigma deactivated his firearm and the Marauder seemed to crouch lower. Its joints emitted a hiss, and then the legs snapped upright, lifting the machine into the air even as it began to turn around, crashing back down on the elevator platform with a shockwave that floored both Hunters, much to their dismay. The elevator itself slowed briefly and groaned in protest, but its reliable systems continued to operate.

            "Let's try this again," Sigma said calmly, redirecting his gun at X. The Azure Hunter started scrambling to his feet, slipping on the sleek floor and accomplishing nothing before Sigma opened fire.

            "X!" Zero thundered in alarm, but his concern was not needed—X's boot thrusters came to life and carried him well away from his section of the floor, a section that soon ceased to exist, again with amazingly little damage to the elevator's functions. Without waiting for Sigma to line up a second shot, Zero let out a battle cry and rushed the Marauder dead on, leaping onto its torso and bringing his saber to bear against the monster's right shoulder guard, hoping to destroy the radar within.

            "Oh, if _only _it were that easy," Sigma drawled. Immediately afterwards, a thick sheet of electricity came alive all over the Marauder's exterior body and caught Zero quite off guard. The Hunter let out a yelp of pain and threw himself off the big machine, only he misjudged his jumping distance and hit the wall. It really _was _tight quarters in here.

            This time it was X who called the warning, and this one was needed. Zero looked up just in time to see Marauder dashing at him, a big infrared blur, bringing its huge charged sword cracking towards the Crimson Hunter, who dodged only with the aid of his own thrusters. Marauder instead left a deep gash in the wall that by some unhappy chance severed no cables or anything else that might slow or stop the elevator. "The same holds true for you, Sigma!" Zero snapped, regaining his composure. "You won't take us down easily!"

            "My God, Zero," Sigma breathed tiredly. "You really think this is about defeating you? I estimate that this elevator will reach the roof in…five minutes. Then I fly away, far away, an unseen menace shooting invisibly through the night sky. Off to scheme again."

            "_We _still see you," X retorted, charging his cannon to its maximum level. His infrared targeting landed on Marauder's right shoulder. "And we're not letting you go anywhere."

            "I suppose you _can_ see me," Sigma acknowledged thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten about that."

            What happened next was the worst thing either Hunter could have dreamt up for the present situation. Internal systems came alive inside Marauder, and a compartment underneath its hulking chest armor opened up to reveal a strange cannon of sorts. It fired once, before either Hunter could think to attack it, and the shaft was filled with a hideous wave of radiation. Immediately both Hunters watched their infrared sensors go absolutely haywire, locking onto everything and anything. "Shit!" they both chimed in unison, deactivating the function and blinking to clear their eyes.

            Nothing. They were again facing an invisible enemy—invisible to the eye and unable to make out in infrared.

            "Now," Sigma resumed, and they both heard the gun arm levering into position, "_where were we_?"

            No words were spoken—from here on there was only chaos. Both Hunters ran behind the Marauder, which lashed out with gunfire and swordplay to prevent them from doing so. When it failed, the machine performed another jump-spin and began its attack anew, stomping towards a Hunter occasionally and attacking at closer range. Both of them had to rely on their sense of hearing to stay alive.

            "Sigma!" Zero shouted, keeping his saber constantly moving in case of incoming attacks. "You've gone too far! First you try to destroy us with space lasers, and now with nukes? How low will you go, you bastard?"

            "_Me_?" Sigma scoffed, turning his machine to face Zero. "No, my old friend, you have it all mistaken! It was Terrornova that approached me with the nuclear scheme…it was _all them_. That's how they traded their way into my ranks. 'The Team' is responsible for the weapon acquisition…and their usage. And you let them go." The Maverick couldn't resist a laugh. "But yet _I'm_ the bad guy?"

            "You orchestrated it all," Zero growled, feeling his rage coming to bear. "Just like with Repliforce!"

            "I only _wish _I could say I orchestrated this!" Sigma retorted. "But Gold Serpent takes that prize. It was he who told Terrornova about the nukes. It was he who led them to me…and it was he who stole this magnificent ride armor, and let it slip into our possession."

            "You mean…" Zero stopped, taken aback for the briefest of seconds. "You know this…how?"

            "Please," the Maverick King drawled, bringing the Marauder's blade arm flying towards Zero. The Hunter listened for the sound of the blade cutting through the air nearest him and then dropped to the floor. "It wasn't hard to put it all together. He had the assassins fooled, but not me. Never me. I merely allowed him to continue with his game because it suited my purposes." The essence of a grin. "So I guess, in a way, I did orchestrate this. Cool."

            "Who is he?" Zero demanded, noting that X was up to something and trying to buy him time. "Who is the Serpent, if you know so much about his plans?"

            "Even I don't know that," Sigma responded, somewhat miffed. "But I have my…suspicions. Only three men would have all the connections needed to implement these exact pawns, and I highly doubt Kitao and Virdelko wanted this. They're humans, after all."

            "That leaves one, a Reploid…" Zero's eyes darkened as realization set in, taking the form of Chartreuse, a Reploid he didn't know all that well but had come to hate vehemently. "That bastard…!"

            "Yes," Sigma agreed, though much more chipper about it. "The world needs more enterprising gentlemen like him. Wouldn't you agree?"

            X was indeed up to something. While Sigma and Zero played around, X searched his mind desperately for a way to disable Marauder's radar or cloaking or both. His mind finally came up with the Aiming Laser, and his colors shifted to purple and green. It was an awful color combination, he thought again, but he'd live with it.

            To his dismay, however…there was nothing to lock onto. "Dammit," he swore grumpily. His targets were hidden too deeply under Marauder's armor to be accessible. That meant he had to wear it down a bit. Reverting to his normal colors he charged his cannon to its maximum level. Just as Sigma and Zero finished their conversation, he reached his top level. "Yo, Chrome Dome!" the veteran Hunter snapped, getting his enemy's attention. "If you two are done, mind coming over here so I can kill you again? You know the drill, I assume," he added, with as much patronization as possible.

            Marauder did turn slightly, and Sigma's voice was acid. "Insolent _bastard_! I _will _spare a bullet for _you_!"

            X couldn't have asked for anything more.

            Marauder's cannon flashed and thundered, but that flash was not hidden by the ride armor's cloaking shield. Inhaling sharply but determinedly, X's thrusters carried him up into the air over the shots. Sigma raised the arm to redirect his fire, but X was ages ahead of him, dashing again in midair towards where he knew the shoulder had to be after locking on to the arm's position. Seconds later the ridiculously large blob of plasma that had become Fourth Armor's trademark crashed into Marauder's left shoulder, eating away at the exterior armor at a rate that X desperately hoped would be enough—Sigma would not fall for that trick twice.

            While the Maverick King swore in rage, X wasted no time reverting back to the Aiming Laser. His breath caught thankfully in his throat as, this time, he _did _find a target—somewhere within Marauder's shoulder, the first radar unit had been found.

            Sitting inside the sealed cockpit, Sigma didn't quite believe it when he saw it. One minute, he had a clear field of view all around Marauder; the next, half of that was gone. "You sons of bitches," he whispered, a flurry of dread alighting in his stomach. It passed quickly enough. He would not lose. He had only to stall them…not defeat them. And that he could do.

            "A grand gesture," X and Zero heard as the Marauder began to right itself. "But ultimately futile. Behold! Light!"

            And there it was—it was faint, but it was there. Moonlight from the roof spilled into the shaft as it neared its destination. If this wasn't telltale enough, the air temperature was dropping sharply as they approached the snowy night air. And the damned elevator kept moving…slowly, yes, but moving nonetheless. It wouldn't be more than two minutes.

            "Destroy it," X decided out loud.

            "Amen," Zero agreed, leaping into the air and angling his sword at the ground. With a cry of "Hyouretszuan!" he came down again, slamming his ice lance into the platform hoping to freeze it in its tracks. Nothing. "Dammit!"

            "Oh, my!" Sigma was uproarious. "Now that's entertainment! If you want to cause carnage, Zero, try this for size." No longer hiding himself, their unseen foe activated the chargers on his sword, creating a gigantic golden beam saber that was plain to see, something X took advantage of as he began charging his cannon for the right shoulder.  "No you don't," Sigma said matter-of-factly, remembering what had happened last time and bringing Marauder right towards the Azure Hunter, who had no room to maneuver. Instead X switched to the first special weapon he could think of and used his charge for it—the Double Cyclone. Sigma's brow furrowed in annoyance as the Marauder's heavy sword struggled against the plasma laced winds, which seemed feeble in comparison. Marauder won out, but not before X used his newly bought time to duck under the blade and escape to Marauder's left flank. Damn, Sigma thought as he dislodged the blade from the wall. Even with all this power, it was still going to be hard.

            "What do you hope to accomplish?" Sigma tried the talking thing again, turning slowly to face his adversaries. "You can disable my radar if you like—that won't stop Marauder. I'll be free whatever you do, free to do whatever I wish with this warhead. I could take out your next base, if I wanted to. Or I could be even more devious, and take out the Megacity Government. Imagine that anarchy! Or worse," he added, just for Zero, "I could give it back to Malevex and the others. I'm sure they have a few grudges left over."

            "There you're wrong," Zero responded, though he wasn't as strong about it as he would have liked. What _would _Malevex do with a warhead? Just because Zero had gone easy on him didn't mean that the man was any less a Maverick. For that matter, what might Terrornova do if in the future they were presented with the option to aid a Maverick attack? Could even this mercy make them think twice?

            But no…now was not the time to second-guess himself. "If anything," Zero said smugly, clenching his sword firmly in his resolve, "Malevex would use it on_ you. _And after what you did to those people, I wouldn't blame him."

            Sigma had no retort. He just frowned darkly, levering Marauder's machine gun at his crimson nemesis. "All is fair," he said neutrally, pulling the trigger, "in love and war." Gunshots exploded into the walls behind the fleeing Hunters, and Sigma grinned maliciously as he increased the ammo flow. "Just ask Iris!"

            "Rot in hell!" Zero thundered, exploding off a wall and diving towards where he assumed Marauder was. He connected all right, and gashed his sword deep into the monstrosity's chest armor before the electric flow struck him. Grunting in pain, his rage subsided and he removed his weapon to leap from the ride armor. As he did so, however, Sigma turned the machine suddenly and swatted Zero in the side like a tennis ball with the broad side of the energized blade. The grunt became a roar, and Zero hit the wall hard, landing in a heap on the platform…that had yet to stop moving.

            "Temper, temper," Sigma taunted. He was falling back into his element. He loved these confrontations. "Remember what happened last time you fell into a rage?"

            "Yes," Zero seethed, turning the tables. "Last time I fell into a rage…I conquered it." He stood. "And I saved a life…rather than taking one." He referred to Teytha, whereas Sigma referred erringly to Iris. "But don't look for any such mercy yourself!"

            "I won't need it," Sigma sneered, leveling Marauder's gun at the prone Zero. "You, on the other hand…"

            He never had the chance. Yelling with rage, Mega Man X leapt down from the wall he'd scaled rabidly, his armor a combination of gold and black. Above him a spiraling web of gold crackling energies came to life, spanning the entire distance across the shaft.

            And the platform was leading Marauder right up into it.

            "No!" Sigma gasped, realizing the Lightning Web tactic only when it was too late. "You bastard!" He turned the gun on X, though his fire was indiscriminate. X weaved through each blast like the pro he was, getting around Sigma's flank and dragging Zero with him for the last stretch. Before Sigma had a chance to turn around, the web would be upon him. Knowing this he raised the gun to fire on the web, but he was too close already. The golden blanket stuck to the ride armor faithfully, and as the elevator rose the whole machine became encased by X's trap. Zero cut a hole in the web above the Hunters to spare them the effects, but the rest of the webbing met the platform at its edges, gumming up the internal workings.

            There was a loud metallic groan, and the freight elevator…stopped.

            "NO!" Sigma fairly shrieked, all too aware of his present situation. The Lightning Web was not only holding him down, but it was also reacting to the electricity coating Marauder's frame. The end result was that a perfect outline of the machine was rendered visible to the Hunters, which made Marauder's cloaking useless. That same cloaking unit was damaged by the foreign electricity, and starting here it began to short out and reactivate at random intervals.

            "You use everyone," Zero growled, dashing towards Sigma and preparing himself for the shock of what was to come. His blade covered itself with flames, crashing into Marauder's right shoulder and melting away the armor. The Ryuenjin carried Zero above Marauder, and as he shook off the electrical shock of impact he reverted to the Hyouretszuan for his follow up attack, bracing for the second shock. "No life, however faithful, is anything to you except an expendable pawn." The ice lance ate into the damaged shoulder armor, smashing through the final radar unit and rendering X74-Marauder effectively blind. "I won't let it continue! _We _won't let it continue!"

            Marauder's cockpit window slid open—Sigma had no choice now but to look with his own eyes. From behind a screen of pulsating energies, X and Zero beheld the most pissed off Maverick King they'd ever seen, and he had but one thing to say to them.

            "Well congratu-frickin-lations."

            Marauder then went absolutely berserk. The blade arm was working overtime, slashing across the length of Marauder's body to tear any and all strands of high-voltage webbing before coming around for another pass. The machine turned slowly but effectively as its blade cut away more and more of X's trap. It was too dangerous for Zero to approach it with a melee attack, but that didn't stop X from pelting Sigma's cockpit with a third-level blast, which was pretty powerful in its own right. The barrier, however, merely sizzled and flickered, taking no actual damage.

            "Not a chance!" Sigma taunted. "This energy barrier was designed with your weapons in mind, X!" Without another word, Sigma started up another Marauder function—the propulsion system. The thrusters underneath Marauder's back came to life, creating a rocket of flames that lifted the hulking mecha off the stationary elevator platform and tore it free of the last remnants of the Lightning Web. "Sayonara, suckers!" Even Sigma couldn't resist a good old-fashioned one liner once in a while.

            "NO!" Zero bellowed, watching Marauder levitate up towards the roof…and to freedom. "We can't let him get away!"

            "The walls," X realized, leaping onto them and scaling them with the functions ingrained in his boots. Zero did the same, his saber at the ready. It didn't take them long at all to catch up with Marauder, which moved far slower, and to begin pelting it with attacks.

            "You're all insects!" Sigma roared, firing up his guns. "Bothersome insects! And you'll all be _squashed_!"

            "You called me an insect once before, Sigma," X reminded him, charging his cannon. "I defeated you then, and I'll defeat you now!"

            "Reality check," Sigma snapped scathingly. "This time I brought along a proper exterminator!"

            Neither Hunter had enough time to react. Marauder's machine guns opened up again, but this time, being airborne, the ride armor was able to spin much more easily, and neither Hunter was ready for this. X's footing exploded from underneath him and he fell, latching onto a cable only a few feet from the stationary platform. "No…!"

            "You bastard!" Zero shouted, jumping closer to Marauder and stabbing his sword into a damaged shoulder plate, hoping the electrical shield there would be offline. It wasn't. With a cry of pure, unadulterated hate the Hunter fell with his sword, jarred free by Marauder's external electrical field, and landed hard on the platform. X dropped down next to him to help him up, and Marauder just kept on soaring higher. He'd reach the roof in seconds.

            "Sigmaaaaa!" X shouted, acquiring a red coloration and unleashing his charged blast in the form of the Rising Fire, a massive vertical fireball that traveled up the shaft and erupted underneath Marauder's thrusters. The result of so much heat was, unsurprisingly, overheating. The cloaking shield died long enough for the Hunters to get a load of their quarry, and then became active once more to their dismay. Sigma glowered at Marauder's danger sensors as the engines briefly flickered and died out. The big ride armor's legs shot out, wedging themselves in opposite shaft walls and keeping the behemoth stationary and in position without losing much in the way of altitude.

            "So much for going out like insects!" Sigma fairly screamed with laughter, directing his gun down towards the platform. "You'll have to settle for being trapped like rats!"

            Time stopped. Zero's head rose in slow motion, his eyes detecting the shimmer in the air that indicated Marauder's gun arm taking aim at him. There really was no escape here…no place to run to at all. But then…why did he need to run? He couldn't run. Not from Sigma. Sigma was the one who was running…because he had to. He knew X and Zero would destroy him if they caught him. That realization lifted his spirits—it was not a matter of defeating Sigma, he knew. All they had to do…all that was necessary to end this…

            …All they had to do was _catch _the bastard.

            "Press yourself against the wall," Zero ordered his friend, standing bolt upright.

            "What?" X asked, even as he began to obey his partner's order.

            "Just _do it_!" As he spoke, Zero's beam saber took on a darkish tint. Its coloration became something next to black, and it shimmered with what for all the world looked like fire. Even as destructive rounds from Marauder's weapon peppered the floor around him, Zero raised his sword and then slammed the tip into the platform at his feet. Immediately three strands of that black fire snaked away from the blade and crossed the floor. At their tips they blossomed into swirling orbs of ebon flame that slowly rose into columns…columns that shot clear up the length of the shaft into and past the Marauder. X, against the wall, was just out of range as the pillars then began to spin.

            "TRIPLE NOVA!" Zero shouted, putting all his energies into hurling Malevex's parting gift up at the surprised and thoroughly helpless Sigma. He could go in no direction but up, firing up Marauder's thrusters too late to change anything as the swirling vortexes of dark fire closed in around the ride armor, melting and fraying armor. Zero seethed in anger, letting his hatred for Sigma brace him as he felt the heat of the pillars converging in on his position…and of Marauder's, directly above him. The fire did not harm Zero, its master, but Marauder was less fortunate, caught in a vertical inferno, a furnace that it could not escape. Sigma's frustrated howl echoed down the shaft as his own general's attack struck back at him, the traitorous commander. "Eat that, you little shit," Zero whispered as the attack reached its breaking point. "And choke on it."

            Sigma didn't choke on anything, but he did respond in the only way he could—he fell. Marauder came down like a rock, and only by the dumbest of luck was Zero able to leap away from his death. Marauder hit with the force of a comet, and almost instantly the elevator platform gave way. It began to sink down, first slowly, then at the rate of a train as it hurled itself towards fiery destruction below. Marauder, on the other hand, lashed out with its feet again and lodged itself firmly in position while the Hunters scrambled to climb a wall.

            "Sigma!" X growled in shock, beholding Marauder as it flickered in and out of view—the Triple Nova must have damaged its cloaking device even further. "Don't you ever know when to quit?"

            "You're one to talk!" Sigma's voice growled as his thrusters went on. Inside his cockpit Sigma diverted all his energy to his propulsion unit, and he began to rise with a speed that both Hunters noted was much faster than before. "And you should know, regardless. I'm never licked…never!"

            "Neither are we!" Zero fired back, lancing upwards with another Ryuenjin aimed at Marauder's thrusters. Expecting this, Sigma lashed out with a heavy leg and pinned Zero hard against a wall. He fell twenty feet before he regained his hold, and quickly scampered after his archrival. There was no way he could let him escape. He'd come so far this time…he'd saved himself from himself, he'd redeemed himself in his own eyes, and now all he had to do was stop this one last villain. It was ironic, he thought, that the one battle where he actually _wanted_ to kill someone in this campaign was turning out to be the hardest battle to win.

            X was using the Aiming Laser to lock onto Marauder's most exposed parts, bombarding them with concentrated firepower. Sigma eventually took offense and swiped his blade arm up across the wall at X, who danced around it, dashed across the void, and attacked from the other side. Finally Sigma allowed himself a final burst of speed to put himself above the Hunters, and then he redirected some power to his weapon units while pulling off some rather…interesting aero-acrobatics.

            "What the…?" X frowned.

            "He's gonna use the…" Zero realized. "X! Look out!"

            But it was too late for either of them to do anything about it. Marauder turned nearly upside down, using its arms and legs as leverage in the tight quarters, and activated the missile launcher on its back. Before either Hunter could react, a salvo of miniature Sidewinders snaked out of Marauder's heaviest unit of firepower, lighting up the shaft with thundering explosions and clouds of shrapnel. Sigma had lost their heat seeking capabilities with his radar, but he didn't really need them here, he thought with a cruel smirk. At the same time this was happening, the elevator platform struck bottom and sent a blazing gout of flame shooting up the shaft from below. It wouldn't reach the Hunters, but its presence was still felt, and it lingered.

            The Hunters themselves held on for dear life as their world exploded around them. Zero was less prepared, and his support cable shattered almost instantly as shrapnel caught him in the back. The shockwave from another missile came soon after, throwing him clear of any wall and into a headfirst plummet. "DAMMIT!" he shrieked in fury. "X! KILL HIM!" The blue Hunter looked down in dismay as his friend fell towards the inferno below. "KILL HIM BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!"

            "Zero," X choked out in disbelief, just as a missile exploded directly above him. He held onto his own cable, which somehow held, though his body was riddled with holes. When he looked again he couldn't see Zero, but the fire was also dying below him. Zero couldn't have died…he'd have found a wall eventually; he'd have dashed to one. But Lord knew how far down he was now. X was alone. Alone to stop Sigma from escaping with a nuke…

            …And it seemed he was out of time.

            In horror, X looked upward as the smoke cleared to see X74-Marauder, still flickering in and out of existence, climbing out of the elevator shaft into the freedom of the Catskill skyline.

            "NO!" the Hunter erupted as he climbed the rest of the distance like a crazed monkey. His blaster began charging to its limit, and his growl gathered both power and volume as he approached his destination. Finally—_finally—_he broke free of the darkness of the elevator shaft and beheld a new darkness, that of the Seraph Castle roof. It was a part of the main building, and rectangular in structure. It was large, wide, and ideal for a battle…though Sigma wasn't looking for a battle.

            And there he was, stomping towards the edge of the roof, undoubtedly giving his thrusters a chance to recharge. X brought his sizzling cannon to bear at the Marauder's most obvious weak point, calling out in throaty challenge to his hated enemy.

            Sigma turned the Marauder in more disbelief than anything else. He had to see X to believe that his point blank missile salvo hadn't taken the accursed Reploid out of commission. His proof came in the form of both visual confirmation and of a giant blast of plasma in the thin waist of his prized ride armor.

            Marauder shuddered and doubled over as its midsection sizzled with the impact of X's attack. It turned out to be of stronger make than X had suspected, but it still registered to the Hunter as his primary target.

            "Persistent bastard!" Sigma's voice cracked across the otherwise peaceful night sky. "I'll see you in your grave yet!"

            As he spoke, four more Sidewinders launched upwards from Marauder's launcher—the last of Sigma's stock. They twisted and writhed through the air as they came down at random points, again relying on weak internal radar due to the absence of Marauder's own central homing unit. Nevertheless X was still in danger, and he carefully dashed first left, then right, then right again, and then straight at Marauder as its missiles exploded behind it.

            He was doubly surprised to learn that he'd miscalculated and was being thrown forward by a blast close behind him, and also that Marauder was a lot faster than he'd first anticipated.

            Sigma's own battle cry was issued as he guided his war machine towards his startled enemy, bringing the sword up and slicing it at X, who could only throw himself flat on his face, guided forward by the momentum of the explosion behind him. The blade traveled over the Hunter's head, but then Marauder's right foot came up, and X broke into a frantic roll to avoid being squashed.

            He rolled right under Marauder's thrusters.

            Sigma activated the flames long enough to give X the scorch of a lifetime. The Hunter screamed in pain and continued his roll, putting out the flames but rising with a darkened face. The smell of burnt flesh—his flesh—registered, and his stomach sank with both revulsion and nervousness.

            "Tell me, X," Sigma asked, aligning his machine in the Hunter's direction. "What's it like? What's it like to use all this effort, while knowing deep down that it's all for nothing?" He stepped forward, once, slowly, and then no more. "What's it like knowing that no matter what you do, no matter how many times you suffer…" Another step, just as slow, and then a halt. "…I still endure?"

            "It's not for nothing," X whispered, beginning a silent charge of his buster.

            "What's that, boy?" Sigma asked, narrowing his eyes. "Speak up!"

            "It's not for nothing!" X shouted, stomping his right foot down hard. "And you listen up, _junior_. I'm twice your age, and I've got twice your competence in…well, pretty much everything. Even war." He grinned his own cold grin. "Pathetic, no? Me, a pacifist, I turn out to be a better soldier than you, a war machine."

            "Don't flatter yourself!" Sigma laughed mirthfully. "You? A soldier? No, X, you're nothing more than a kid with a gun."

            "Once," X acknowledged. "But you made me pick up that gun. And I used it to kill you. Now I'm a man with a gun, and I know how to use it." To emphasize, he loosed his charged shot, which again struck Marauder again in its wiry midsection. "You talk so big, like you know everything and call all the shots," X said, his voice gaining strength. It was he who stepped towards Sigma now. Only X wasn't stopping. "But we both know that's not the case. You're just a pawn…just like those you claim to control. You're nothing but a _puppet_."

            "But who are you speaking to, X?" the voice asked him cryptically as Marauder struggled to compose itself, its central armor significantly weakened. "Sigma? Or something else?"

            X's eyes darkened as he sensed the true presence inside the ride armor. "You're the Virus."

            "Always the Virus," Sigma's controller said with a grin. "I'm not the puppet. I'm the puppet_master_. I do know everything and call all the shots…and I'm so much stronger than anything you've ever encountered." Behind his shield, the big Reploid smiled maliciously. "Just ask Zero."

            "Zero…" X mouthed the name, charging another shot. Sigma noticed. X didn't care. "You've been using him for a long time…you've been tormenting my best friend, and I don't like it very much."

            "Your best friend!" the Virus scoffed. "Hardly! He is your worst enemy."

            "If Zero were the worst I had to fear," X said with an easy smile, "the world would be more peaceful than even I had ever dared to dream. You, Sigma…you, Virus…you're the worst enemies to peace…and peace is all I fight for."

            "For which you were prepared to kill those assassins?" Sigma challenged, priming his own attack. "For which you have killed countless others? That doesn't sound very peaceful to me."

            "Sigma, I've put up with you for…how long is it now? I believe I know the odor of bullshit when I smell it. So spare me the crap."

            "As you wish," Sigma responded, all too quietly for X's liking. Seconds later, Marauder shimmered back out of existence. In another instant, a radioactive blast hit X dead on, ruining his infrared on the roof as well. Swearing violently, X broke into a run, hearing the _clomp clomp_ of Marauder's heavy metal feet moving much too quickly. This wide-open space…Marauder was now fighting in its element, and this was not good for X at all.

            For a while, the "battle" consisted of X frantically looking for a new exit route, watching carefully for some hiccup in Marauder's cloaking shield to pinpoint its exact location to make his escape easier. Sigma came at him with crazy sword attacks, and even though the blade's energy function was now deactivated it would still take X apart if it hit him. The Hunter took a page from Zero and allowed his emotions to take hold and sustain him.

            _If Sigma escapes,_ he told himself, _he can threaten the entire free world. With just that one bomb, he can do more damage than both the other ones combined. The fear he could cause…it would undermine everything. He cannot be allowed to do that. Megacity 5 is already burning, and it's our fault for not stopping the Mavericks sooner. We can't fail again…we WON'T fail again. If there's to be any truth to this "free world" thing…then Sigma…_

            "YOU WILL FALL!" X finished aloud, in a voice of absolute command that he so rarely used. Even Sigma was hypnotized by it, however briefly, and that gave X all the time he needed. The Hunter spun on his heel, switched on infrared, selected the biggest blob of radiation he saw and let fly with his next charged shot. The blob of plasma slammed into what by some miracle was indeed the Marauder, working on the blade arm itself and giving Sigma quite a few woes about its functionality. More importantly, it bought X the time he needed to change weapons, selecting again the Aiming Laser. He reverted to normal sight and found a target…too far to the left. He tried again…no, that was the right radar box again, and it was already spent. He tried one last time, hoping he'd done enough damage.

            And there it was, a lock right in the middle.

            X opened fire, and the last Aiming Laser cut into Marauder's damaged midsection enough to make Sigma change tactics totally. He shut off his cloaking device, realizing that it just made X more intent on the weak midsection, and shielded the area with his sword arm. "All right, X," Sigma seethed, as the thrusters behind Marauder fired up. "You wanna fight? Well then by God, _we're gonna fight!_"

            X had no time to savor this victory. Marauder came rocketing towards him like a bat out of hell, flailing with charged sword and using the gun as a club. X wove carefully around the beast, which made full use of its revolving torso. Sigma would even occasionally lash out with a foot, and one time punched X back enough for the energy-charged sword to come into play. It lashed out towards him, a bolt of Zeus, coming right for the Hunter's throat. He dashed in the opposite direction, putting his all into the evasive measure. By some miracle, he outran Sigma's thundering slash, and the Marauder, refusing to acknowledge defeat, kept turning. It carried all the way through and slammed its blade into the rooftop where X had been, angled awkwardly in the Hunter's direction…leaving the midsection totally exposed.

            "Sorry, _boy_," X said icily, raising his cannon to deliver what hopefully would be the final blow. "This flight's been canceled."

            He didn't see Marauder's left arm rise behind its back. He didn't see the elbow rotate around as though there was no joint to hold it in place. He did see the gun pointed right at him, but not until it was too late. Sigma had deliberately left himself open…he'd set this trap, and now X had fallen right into its snares.

            Mega Man X did something he had not done in ages that night—he froze. It was only for a second, but in that second, while he stared like a cow in headlights, Sigma's ride armor opened fire with its aircraft gun, sending a storm of high-powered rounds at the champion Maverick Hunter. When X did react, his first frantic thought was to get somewhere—_anywhere_—but here. He dashed to the left, his only conscious thought, and watched the golden tracers fly past him, his breathing suspended, his mind damning him for his mistake, and his soul hoping fervently that he might be spared the void.

            A round struck him in the right bicep, punched out the back of him, and spun his body like a rag doll onto the ground.

            X gasped, winded. Then he gasped again, this time a short inhalation of breath, when he saw the blood that he'd just spit up with the air. Something metallic landed in back of him, and weak as he felt something compelled him to turn and look.

            It was his arm. His right arm was laying across the rooftop, severed clear from his body by that one round. It was the arm Malevex had shot—X still had his buster, but now he had no digits with which to manipulate his surroundings. Not if he still wanted to shoot. Plus, he was bleeding profusely.

            "Shut down all blood flow to the damaged area," X rasped to his repair unit, even though it was worlds ahead of him. The Hunter painfully forced himself to his feet, feeling the absence of his arm and getting sick because of it. His legs wobbled. His head began to ache. His vision blurred, and he thought to himself that at least the round hadn't hit his shoulder—it may have taken half his _body_ off.

            His vision cleared to behold the visible Marauder marching towards him, its blade raised like an executioner. It jumped briefly and crashed down, generating a shockwave that floored X again. He fell right on his rump, staring up miserably at the monstrosity before him. Laughing himself into frenzy, Sigma sent a current of electricity racing through his blade, fixing X with the most poisonous of glares.

            "I must admit, Hunter, you had a very good idea!" The Maverick King rested his hand on the control to attack. "This battle thing…has turned out quite nicely." Marauder's back arched slightly more. "Now goodbye, Mega Man X! And may you burn for all eternity!"

            X said nothing as he raised his arm cannon and fired a simple level 2 shot up into the open compartment housing Sigma's radioactive cannon, a compartment he had never bothered to close and which was now revealed in full by Marauder's posture.

            The results were instantaneous. The cannon, not meant to take damage, was easily spent by the shot and exploded as only something radioactive can. The explosion carried through into some of Marauder's internal units, which were apparently linked. One of these was the cloaking shield, which flickered off for eternity. Sigma shrieked in frustration as his cockpit flashed warning lights and his war machine was rocked by internal blasts. It staggered a safe distance away from X, who slowly got back to his feet and forced himself to focus at the enemy before him, glaring daggers. His energy was low…losing a limb did that to a guy. But he could hold out…he had to.

            Sigma didn't offer him much in the way of hope, however. Smoke pouring from every corner of Marauder's body, the machine stood erect and leveled its guns directly at the sluggish X. "I don't care what or how long it takes, Mega Man!" bellowed what was probably the Virus. "I _will_ bring you to your knees!"

            "Sigma," X said in a rare bit of sardonic, vulgar humor. "That's just sick."

            X could be as crass as he wanted, for all Sigma cared. He was the one with the advantage this time. And he was damn sure gonna use it. Marauder's guns began to whirr, and the ammo feed started moving.

            A column of fire lanced up from the elevator shaft as it erupted like a volcano. At its tip was a burning sword, and beneath that a swordsman the color of the fire beneath him. The sword switched elements, becoming instead encased by freezing ice as the swordsman came crashing down towards his hated enemy.

            "SIGMAAAAA!" Zero's voice split the night air like a crack of paralyzing thunder. It even drowned out the sound of the ice lance shearing into the armor behind the cockpit, the sound of Sigma's enraged scream, and the groans of X74-Marauder as it struggled to keep itself in working order after sustaining so much abuse.

            "You FREAK!" Sigma accused, swiping at Zero frantically with Marauder's sword just to get the crazy man _away _from him. It worked. "What are you that you can't just DIE?"

            "Some of us," Zero seethed, stepping forward again with his sword clenched tightly in his fists, "have more to live for than death." His bloodshot eyes narrowed at the behemoth before him. "Unlike you."

            Sigma's responding cry told Zero all he needed to know. Marauder's guns armed themselves and opened fire at Zero, who sped around the ride armor and headed towards its back. "SHIPPUGA!" Zero roared, letting his elongated red blade shear into the back of Marauder's midsection, adding further damage to what X had started.

            "Impossible!" Sigma whispered, barely cohesive. Marauder's thrusters flared to life again, carrying the machine across the rooftop away from the dangerous Maverick Hunters. "This is…the most powerful ride armor in the history of warfare. How can you…how can you mere _foot soldiers_ be a match for it?"

            "Power isn't everything," X declared, staggering towards Sigma. Zero rushed to his side to support him, a sickened look clouding the blonde Reploid's features. "It's only a part of the whole. I realized that a long time ago. Winning requires some kind of dedication…and dedication is different from obsession." He fixed Sigma with a confident gaze. Now _he _was the one who knew everything. "You forgot that, that first time we fought. That's how I defeated you. You were so obsessed with your single cause that you lost sight of the big picture, while I was too dedicated to my cause to see anything _but_ the big picture. And here…tonight…" He waved his arms to encompass all the Catskills and Megacity 5 beyond. "Nothing has changed."

            "He did this to you," Zero breathed, examining X's stump of an arm. He looked up at the stationary Marauder, angry bile rising in his throat. "You did this…" A rage took him and he stepped away from X, who was able to stand on his own now. "You destroy EVERYONE you come in contact with!"

            "Well Zero," Sigma said with a vicious huff, "that would make me no different than _you_."

            The barb lanced right into and through Zero's heart. The Hunter's face darkened and turned to stone. Sigma had of course gone right to the one thing that could double Zero over with grief. That one statement could have defeated him then and there, could have left him doubtful of both his abilities and intentions…doubtful of who and what he was. He could have been left wide open for Sigma to work his black magic.

            But not tonight.

            Tonight, standing here was a different Zero. He had done as much to undo his past as he possibly could—saving life instead of destroying it. He'd delivered Teytha from a death set up by others; he'd granted Mortar a pardon from X, the angel of death; and he'd prevented Malevex from walking the path of self-destruction. People often called him a hero for the things he did, and while he acknowledged them he never really believed them. But tonight, regardless of how ridiculously conceited it seemed to him, he _felt _like a hero. And that feeling, it reminded him of how he'd felt for one instant in the core of Final Weapon, indulging for the briefest of seconds in actual happiness. Somewhere, he knew for certain, Iris was watching him.

            And she was proud.

            Tonight, nothing, not even Sigma could bring Zero down. Tonight, he was invincible.

            "You and me," Zero said evenly to Sigma, marching towards him, twirling his beam saber easily. "Two of a kind?"

            "You shouldn't even have to ask," Sigma retorted uneasily, watching Zero closely. "We share that common link. Nothing can change that. Together, we are the blights facing this world!"

            "Well, then," Zero said emotionlessly, halting and fixing Sigma with a look that actually riveted the Maverick Commander in his chair. "I'm sorry to say it, but…" Tonight, even Zero didn't mind indulging in a few one-liners.

            "This world ain't big enough for the two of us."

            It was less the line itself than the way it was delivered that made Sigma decide he'd spent enough time at Seraph Castle, and that it was time to leave forever. X74-Marauder came to life, its thrusters burning brightly as it turned and shot towards the edge of the roof. It lifted off with Zero chasing behind it, running with a speed that nearly put the behemoth itself to shame.

            "Zero!" X shouted, sensing what his friend was about to do and dreading it. "No…don't do it! It's too dangerous!"

            Zero didn't answer right away. His dash thrusters came online and he sped forward like an aircraft taking off, heading right towards the spot where Marauder had left the rooftop two seconds earlier. The machine itself was now speeding away from the castle at a velocity that belied its clunkier movements inside the elevator shaft, but Zero didn't mind. It was going to work. It had to. In his mind, there was no other alternative…no other way of things working out. There was only one option, and thus it was going to happen. It really was that simple.

            Zero timed his leap perfectly, springing off of Seraph Castle with a feline's grace, arcing through the air at twice Marauder's speed with his thrusters still going overtime and complaining about it, but Zero didn't care. All that mattered for now was this. As he jumped, his head turned long enough to fix his best friend with one last look, and his lips opened to send one last message.

            "X…_trust me!_"

            "ZERO!" X's voice called uselessly up to the Crimson Hunter as he disappeared into the inky black night. The remaining Hunter picked up his severed arm almost absently, still watching in stunned shock as Zero went off on his craziest stunt yet. He couldn't catch that thing…not now. It was just too far out a possibility to consider.

            And yet…

            And yet Zero _would _catch Marauder, X knew, because things worked for Zero if they were far out. He had a…gift, of sorts. It had seen him through everything so far. Despite X's mountainous reservations, despite his fears, and despite his best judgment, he had trusted Zero in his illogical decision to free three of the most deadly terrorists X had ever encountered. And now, standing here alone on this rooftop, X was not disappointed. Something cleared in his mind, something that until now had prevented him from seeing the simple, obvious truth.

            _If not Terrornova…then it would have been someone else._

            There really was only one villain here—Sigma. Zero had been right on target. If there really was to be any end to the killing, Sigma first had to be killed himself. For good. X didn't know how they could ever accomplish that, but for now killing the bastard temporarily seemed like the best solution. And Zero was right on top of that.

            "Zero…" X blinked once, and then set his face in resolve. "You won't have to do this alone."

            Summoning the reserves of his power, X drew on his sole E-Tank to bring his internal energy up to full. Severed arm under the other one, he raced to the edge of the roof, looking down with a colossal frown. Then it turned upside down as he had an idea.

            "I'm not licked yet!" X promised the world in a whisper, even as his armor turned yellow and black, and the Lightning Webs began to form a staircase to the snowy earth. "Sigma…you'll have company soon enough!"

            Clearing Seraph Castle was like finishing a marathon race. Sigma let out the biggest sigh of relief he possibly could, allowing himself to relax in his cockpit as the stress of the preceding encounter wore off. Zero was a monster, no doubt about it. He didn't want to face that bastard now, not when he had so much hate working for him. Better to let the Hunter stew for a while, and to calm down. Then he'd strike again…but where?

            That was the problem with owning a nuke, he thought, patting the Spare like he would a grandchild. There were just too many options, too many plans of attack…but it would be fun choosing the right one, he thought with a smile. He'd show those damned Hunters who was boss. He'd put the fear of Sigma in them for sure next time. And he was positive he'd come up with an even more heinous plot for the next round. First, though, he had to get to his auxiliary base to recuperate. It was hidden to Hunter radar, and so long as he got there before daylight broke, the Hunters wouldn't be able to trace him there. Soon, the Seraph Castle uprising would officially be over…and he, Sigma would be alive and unscathed for a change.

            He nearly died from fright when the thump registered on Marauder's back.

            "Jesus Christ," Sigma breathed the human deity's name without a second thought, knowing without really knowing what was going on. "I…I don't _believe it_!"

            "Believe it, you miserable little fuck," Zero's scathing voice registered in Marauder's auditory sensors. "Like you said, we're the same…you can always count on us for reappearances!"

            "I won't _let_ you!" Sigma ranted, driven nearly mad in his disbelief. On his command, Marauder began a crazy series of acrobatics, spinning in complicated barrel rolls while trying to maintain altitude. Sigma feinted left, right, anything to try and throw Zero from atop his mount to his snowy death below. Finally he settled down, positive that he had to have dislodged his unwanted cargo.

            A beam saber cut through the cockpit from behind him, lodged clear through his shield.

            "_IMPOSSIBLE_!" Sigma thundered, thumbing the switch of his electrical curtain and wondering why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

            Nothing happened.

            "No…" Sigma whispered, the truth of it all crashing down hard. When X took out his radioactivity cannon, the explosions must have taken out the electric generator as well as the cloaking core. "No, it…it can't be!"

            "But yet it is," Zero answered from outside, laughing almost as wickedly as Sigma liked to. The wind whipped the Hunter's hair behind him like a cape, splaying it out in a flow of gold as his arms went to work, one hanging onto a ridge on the back armor, the other retrieving the sword from its resting place. Sigma rolled the Marauder again, and this time a gust of wind came to his aid. Zero lost his hold, but latched on again to the flailing gun arm. Sigma began to fire it, hoping the jolt of the recoil would ruin Zero's grip. It almost did, but the Hunter ended the ordeal by crying out and slashing his blade through the ammo feed, severing Sigma's supply of deadly bullets. The last few were spent, and then the gun shuddered like a dead engine, much to the Maverick's horror.

            Sigma's dismay did not last long before it gave way to determination. In his last moments of sanity, he began to draw more and more on the Virus for guidance. He did not know how to handle Zero now, he admitted, not without losing the Marauder, his ticket to future carnage with the Spare. He needed help…he had to have it.

            _Fool,_ the Virus chided him. _Do I have to do everything around here?_

            "End it," Sigma begged of his tormentor in a whisper. "Just get _rid _of him!"

            _He has denied me for the last time,_ the Virus agreed, seizing full control of its host's body.

            "Now, Zero," the Virus spoke in Sigma's voice. "I believe it's time to play…what is it your human friends so cheerfully call it…? Oh yes. Hardball."

            Zero registered the change in Sigma's tone, but didn't make the connection that the Virus was in full control now. He didn't have time to. Not before Marauder went into a series of even crazier maneuvers that shook him free of his hold on the gun arm. Marauder's sword came flying at him, but ironically this saved Zero's life. He latched his own sword on top of Marauder's long enough to swing himself up and over the weapon and grab what remained of the right shoulder guard. It was like a new pilot had taken over, and while Sigma had been quite skillful, this new adversary was ten times that.

            "Your abilities continue to amaze me," Sigma's voice hissed as the ride armor began to somersault, a maneuver that shouldn't have been physically possible for the kind of propulsion it used, but yet it was happening nonetheless. Zero held on for dear life as his world turned upside down…and down, and down, and down.

            "And your evil continues to repulse me," Zero countered, searching frantically for some kind of action to take. This couldn't go on long. He couldn't even see the ground below him—he had no idea how long a fall it was.

            Then he saw, below him, the top of a mountain. He was well above the Catskills now. And he knew that if he did fall, from these heights, he would quite surely die.

            The Virus realized this as well. "Evil? What right have you to be repulsed by the very thing you embody?" Marauder suddenly twisted hard to the left, shoving the air in Zero's face like a steamroller. Then it stopped and reversed direction, all in a fraction of a second. There was nothing Zero could do except watch as his fingers slipped clear off his meager hold, and open air welcomed him.

            "Such is the fate that awaits all those who deny themselves!" the Virus proclaimed triumphantly, booming with malicious laughter.

            The laughter was silenced when Zero appeared before him, standing directly in front of the cockpit window.

            "How…" The Virus gasped, unable to say more.

            _You failed!_ Sigma accused, somewhere inside himself.

            "No," the Virus protested, shaking Sigma's head. "I don't fail…I never fail!"

            "You failed," Zero echoed, raising his saber to punch it through the shield and into the Maverick King's body. "Because I'm not evil. Not anymore." With that, the Hunter Zero drove his arm forward with a mighty cry and put a real end to the Seraph Castle uprising.

            At least, he would have, had Marauder's electrical curtain not chosen that moment to come active.

            When X had triggered the chain reaction of internal explosions, the current generator was not actually destroyed—rather, it was merely knocked offline. Marauder's internal repair unit had been busy restoring that unit to its full capacity, but when Sigma had switched on the curtain, repairs had not yet been made in full. They were now, however, and Sigma had never turned the function off, and so Zero got a surprise dosage of painful electricity.

            Zero was holding onto the armor above the cockpit—the shock got him directly. His grip was foiled almost instantaneously and he fell against the cockpit, electrocuted further by the repulsing waves that composed the cockpit shield. Sliding like an insect from a windshield he fell, as the Marauder zoomed past him at its top speed.

            It took Sigma—both of him—ten full seconds to wholly register what had just happened. Then together they broke into a cacophony of laughter. That, right there, made the whole night worth it.

            "You see," the Virus chortled proudly. "I _never_ fail."

            A jolt registered from Marauder's right leg.

            _You sure about that?_ Sigma challenged right back.

            Marauder's pilot stared in pure, utter disbelief at what he was seeing right now. Then he broke into a scream of unparalleled rage. "ZERO! YOU ANIMAL!"

            "I don't pay…attention…" Zero wheezed, climbing up Marauder's backside from the legs, forcing himself to ignore the agony he was experiencing, "…to dogs!"

            Upon falling, Zero had caught Marauder's leg with his saber as it zoomed overhead. After hoisting himself up, Zero had taken hold of the machine despite the electrical current, holding on out of sheer determination. He used his sword as an anchor, jamming it into the Marauder's armor and hoisting himself further up, all the while approaching its midsection, damaged already by X's attacks.

            "I'll stop you somehow, Zero!" the Virus raged. "I'LL KILL YOU YET!"

            "No," Zero shivered out through his pain. "No, Sigma…you'll never hurt me again. Because…I won't allow you to!"

            Breathing very deeply, Zero concentrated fully on the pain of the electricity lancing through his body, trying with all its might to propel him off the Marauder and down to his demise. He welcomed the pain. He used the pain. His damage meter shouted warnings, but he looked forward to even that. All he needed was a little more…just a little more…

            Yes…there it was.

            "RAKKUOHA!" He shouted it as loudly as he could, raising his supercharged fist and then slamming it hard into X74-Marauder's thin back. The storm of energies ate into already weakened armor, slashed through vital circuitry, and most importantly ripped apart key structural points…put simply, Marauder's spine had been snapped in half. The machine itself gave a hideous groan as the weight of its upper and lower ends became too much. It stopped moving as a unit, and then gravity finished the job Zero had started, snapping the bestial ride armor in two.

            Without a generator to power it, the thruster unit died out and the lower half of Marauder's body fell. Without thrusters to keep it aloft, the upper half suffered the same fate. For his part Zero latched onto Marauder's chest, again ignoring the pain and holding on for dear life. He had to time this right. It all depended on this, and he knew it. He shut out Sigma's screams, he shut out the whistle of falling debris, and just watched.

            …There. A sea of white among an atmosphere of black, illuminated by the glowing moon. The ground was fast approaching.

            Zero waited three seconds longer before propelling himself off of Marauder, springing backwards with both the momentum of the electrical curtain's repelling force and his own dash thrusters. He fell the remaining distance to the ground, which was not in itself lethal.

            What was lethal was the second half of Marauder, crashing down immediately nearby the Hunter and exploding with all the fiery vengeance the thruster fuel could muster.

            With a mournful cry, the dejected Hunter was thrown back into the air and sailed like a skipped stone across the snowy blanket before finally slamming hard and headfirst into the side of a small mountain. Blackness even darker than the night took hold of him, and he knew no more.

            Mega Man X darted across the snowscape as fast as his weary legs could take him. With his remaining arm he blasted away most of the snow with low-level plasma shots, melting enough to clear a path for himself. At first he hadn't known where he was going, but the telltale sound of Marauder's guns going off told him quite a lot eventually. Redirecting his course, X traveled about twenty meters before encountering life in the form of two shadows, moving in the distance.

            "Halt!" he snapped, raising his cannon. "Who goes there!"

            Both shadows froze stiff, turning slowly to face X as he approached them. The Hunter squinted and made out a humanoid in dark armor standing next to a raccoon Reploid. Both wore the Maverick insignia, though in both cases it was tattered.

            "P-please," Gerritt begged, recognizing X for who he was. "D-don't…"

            "Identify yourselves," X growled. He had no time for this.

            Diavus was no rocket scientist, but it didn't take that to notice that X was missing an arm, an arm that he kept underneath his left. Even so his own back was sheared open and Gerritt was more or less broken down. To fight X would still mean death. "We're Mavericks," Diavus managed to say.

            "Thank you, Captain Obvious," X snapped coldly, gesturing to their insignias. "What are you up to now?"

            "Please!" Gerritt actually fell over. "God, I don't want to die…!"

            X's eyes narrowed as recognition set in. "A raccoon…you're the one who shot Commander Damia!"

            Gerritt's horrified look was answer enough. Diavus interjected quickly on his friend's behalf. "We were only acting under orders!" he protested, trying to sound as pathetic as possible. He hated this, but this was how it was done. "I lost a friend to the humans…I thought this would even the score, but it…it just got so out of hand! I swear to _God _I didn't know anything about nukes!" Diavus lied through his teeth.

            "She was shooting at us," Gerritt offered shakily and weakly. "I…I just shot back!"

            X felt another shudder rip through his body. That sick feeling was back…the same sick feeling that had hit him when they let Teytha and Mortar go free. It was the feeling that he was being a sucker. But the way he saw it…he'd let people go for worse crimes than these two had committed. There wasn't much of a way to justify his killing these mere foot soldiers when he'd refused to kill the commanders, was there?

            "Go," he ordered them crisply, and they quite simply went. X watched them disappear into the shadows, following them with infrared. Once he was sure that they weren't going to pull anything, he redirected his sight and raced forward again.

            Fifty meters later he met more company.

            "I told you!" a masculine voice said proudly. "I told you, didn't I? I said I knew the best way out of that joint, and did I ever!"  
            "Yeah, man," another slighter voice agreed. "I guess you were right."

            "I tell ya, I am the _man_!"

            X recognized both voices, and promptly groaned. "Oh, not these two jokers _again_!"

            A tall green Reploid stumbled into view, stopping and gawking at the Azure Hunter. "AHH!" he yelped. "VASTOR! DO SOMETHING!"

            "AHH!" a shorter red Reploid yelped when he was close enough to see the same thing. "SURGE! DO SOMETHING!"

            "ENOUGH!" X yelled. "GO SOMEWHERE! Before I go Rambo on your asses!"

            Vastor and Surge didn't need to be told twice. Surge led the way, whimpering like a schoolboy who'd just had his lunch money stolen, with Vastor close behind. "Sure!" the red Maverick chided ruthlessly. "The best way out! Noooo sentries anywhere! Well wasn't that just plum friggin pudding perfect!"

            "Shut up!"

            "You know, that's THREE TIMES you've almost gotten us fragged by the Hunter pros!"

            "Shut up!"

            "And you know what? I'm sick of it!"

            "SHUT UP!" X bellowed after them, sending a crackling green bolt of plasma in the air above their positions. Both took the hint and bolted faster. "Great googly-moogly!" the Azure Hunter exhaled in a huff.

            The rather silly situation ended then, quite abruptly. Far off in the distance, at least several miles away from X, Marauder's two halves came crashing down. Two violent plumes of fire rose into the night sky, and immediately X's stomach turned over as all kinds of worst-case scenarios flashed throughout his mind. The worst of these was that the Spare would go off, but then he remembered that warheads themselves weren't dangerous unless armed. He doubted Sigma would arm the thing when he was sitting right next to it. But if Zero hadn't cleared the area in time, nuke or not, things would be pretty bad for him…especially if Sigma had survived the crash.

            "No," X promised himself, starting up his dash thrusters again.

            "It's not over yet!"  
  


            His eyes opened slowly, but at least they opened.

            Dim light spilled into his optics, revealing a quiet, expansive room full of all kinds of mechanical parts and various machines. It looked to him like a construction lab. He himself was lounging in an armchair against the far wall, where he had a full view of the room. It was a familiar room, he realized, though he had never seen it in person before. After blinking a few times, he began to suspect that this might not be "in person" either. Ironically, the last thing he noticed was right in front of him—another chair, facing him. The sight of its occupant confirmed his suspicions.

            Zero stood bolt upright, alarm coursing through his systems. The next thing to hit him was a combination of fatigue and dizziness, and down he sat once more, clutching at his aching skull. "What…?"

            "Sit down, Zero," Doctor Albert Wily said in a voice that lacked real emotion. "For once, I don't believe you have anything to fear."

            "There's always something to fear from you," Zero retorted, his voice a cold hiss compared to Wily's easy conversational tone. "All you've done is try to ruin my life."

            "I know." The old man was resting his forehead on his right fist, leaning into it without making eye contact with his "son". "Not much of a father, am I? X's father managed to stick around to teach him things, through those capsules. I wasn't able to do quite the same thing with you."

            "The things you wanted to teach me," Zero replied, getting his voice under control, "I would have refused to learn."

            "So I see now." Wily raised his head slowly, looking his final creation in the eye.

            Immediately a calm spilled over Zero, shutting down the icy barbs of hate that had originally struck him when he beheld his creator. This man in the chair before him was no threat…he was just a tired old man. The look in his eyes was no longer cruel, cold or threatening. The eyes didn't criticize Zero, or ridicule him in any way. Now they just scrutinized him, searching him, almost like Wily was seeing him for the first time. It put Zero on guard, making him think that the old man had to be up to something, but at the same time knowing, somehow, that there were no tricks to be played here. "Where am I…?" he finally asked, ending the looming silence.

            "You're…" Wily stopped and frowned. "Well, that's not an easy question to answer. I could say you're sleeping, but this is a bit more than a dream."

            Memories began to assault Zero—a flaming ride armor falling from the sky, twin explosions, and then a one-way express trip into the side of a mountain. "Don't tell me I'm…?"

            "Oh, hell no!" Wily barked a curt laugh. "No son of mine would ever go down from a simple bump to the head!" He shook his head slowly. "No, Zero, there's much more for you to do yet in the future…hell, you've got more to do tonight."

            "You mean Sigma…"

            "Sigma." Wily leaned back in his own armchair, exhaling slowly. "Yes, Sigma. And the creature swimming around in his head."

            "Your Virus." Zero's eyes narrowed. "Why? Why did you create that thing?"

            "The same reason I created you." At this point, as he said the last sentence, something else flickered in Wily's aged eyes. It was something Zero had never seen before in his visions of the old scientist, but now it was there, and directed specifically at him.

            Pride.

            "What do you want?" Zero asked, his voice little more than a whisper. He felt uncomfortable here. Nervousness was beginning to ensnare him. He'd just spent incredible amounts of energy fighting and winning a battle within his soul—he didn't want Wily to have a chance to undo all that.

            Somehow Wily saw right through Zero, seeing the sentiment and smiling. The smile wasn't condescending in any way. It was…it was, and Zero hated, _hated_ this term for it…fatherly.

            "I wanted to…to thank you." Almost immediately after he said it he laughed at himself, feeling ten kinds of idiot and not hiding it.

            "To thank me?" Zero asked skeptically. This man, father or not, had made his life hell, and he wasn't letting him off easily. "For what, may I ask?"

            "For giving me peace." Wily leaned forward, looking over his confused son with a gaze that for the first time conveyed approval. "For this brief moment in time…I am fulfilled."

            "How?" Zero asked, completely bewildered. "I just spent the bulk of my efforts spitting in your eye! I did everything in my power to spite you! How could I _possibly _have…_pleased _you?"

            Albert Wily frowned, unsure of how exactly to put his sentiments into words. It was a new thing for him, this sanity thing. It took him a while. "The reason I created you, Zero…and the reason I created the Virus…well, the reason I did _everything _in my life…" His hands lifted in some frustration, and shaking his head he started over.

            "There are celebrities in the world, Zero, who stand out for their qualities and their hard work and receive the world's attention. Then there are those who do just as much work, but are elbowed aside in favor of the first group. All my life, I wanted to be with the first group…a celebrity…someone who made a difference, someone who was _known_."

            "I'd say you succeeded in that last part," Zero offered dryly.

            Wily ignored him. "All my life, my efforts had gone unnoticed. When I met Thomas…Thomas Light…I was the one with all the ideas, the know-how, and the dreams. Thomas had the connections, the money, and the ideology. Together we formed a perfect team." His voice deflated. "But even then I was just the footnote. Thomas got all the attention, because he was the celebrity among us. I was just his 'assistant'. Assistant! Ha!" He slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. "_I _invented most of the robot classes that exist today. _I _developed the technology for the first undersea robots…space robots…mining robots! But where was my reward? It went to Thomas Light."

            "So you declared war on him?" Zero frowned and shook his head. "That's no reason for doing what you did."

            "No, you don't understand!" Wily shook his head much more frantically. "That first 'rebellion'…it wasn't what the world accepted it to be. Not wholly. You think one man could have arranged all that on his own? Sure I had royalties, Zero, but come on," the doctor snorted out a laugh. "Where was the _money _for all my Robot Masters? My massive fortresses and their extensive security networks?"

            "History says you stole it all."

            "Not all of it. History, you see, is usually a lie," Wily said dismissively. "What the world calls 'history' is just a recording of events in a way that will please whoever's in power at the time. No, Zero, I was merely a part of a larger organization."

            "Organization?" Zero's eyebrow raised quite high. "Organization of what?"

            "Businessmen, mostly," Wily said with a very amused laugh. "Disgruntled manufacturers and power brokers who wanted to establish a global hold on the new robot market. They contacted me and offered me the fame I sought. I was going to leave Light and work solely for them, as the head of a rival company."

            "So why did you steal Light's robots?"

            "Because they were _my _robots!" Wily retorted vehemently. "I designed them. Light merely took credit for them. Oh, sure, Light _could _have made them himself. He was no pushover in the robotics field, as we both know. But I'm the one who _did _come up with those first six, and I held claim to them."

            "Not legally."

            "No, not legally," Wily agreed, his eyes darkening. "But then, I was no longer planning to abide by the law. I had been betrayed already…betrayed _again._"

            "The businessmen?"

            "They planned to sell me out," Wily seethed, gripping his chair tightly, his hands like claws. "I learned about it through my own reconnaissance robots. They planned to indict me for violating copyright laws—they wanted to jail _me _for using Light's designs…designs _I _came up with! All so _they could reap the ultimate benefits without worrying about me. That was the end."_

            "And you destroyed _them first," Zero recalled the history of the First Robot Rebellion. "Those areas you attacked were the sites of major international corporations."_

            "Yes," Wily acknowledged, releasing his hold on the chair. "That's when Light decided to intervene. He upgraded Rock, a robot who's CPU Light developed on his own, and sent him after me as 'Mega Man'. And the rest…as they say…"

            "Is history," Zero finished. "Regardless of how much you hate history."

            "Well, history does leave out that before Mega Man stopped me, I managed to rob those businessmen blind." The old doctor allowed himself a chuckle of success. "I used those funds, and the interest they generated, to finance every rebellion since the first."

            "And you became a celebrity," Zero said, leaning back in his chair. "That still doesn't explain why you created me."

            "Let me finish." Wily collected his thoughts for a few seconds. "You see, famous or not…infamous, more accurately…I had still lost, and to Light of all people. In the world's eyes, Light was better than me, because Mega Man—_his robot—had defeated all of _my _robots. I couldn't have that. Light quickly became my rival…the one thing standing between me and the title of the world's greatest roboticist."_

            "All of that, for a grudge?"

            "I was already on the path of self-destruction," Wily admitted coarsely. "But I didn't care. The world already considered me a hated terrorist, so why should I ever hope to rejoin society? That would be granting _them _the victory. I knew then, Zero, that world domination was in fact within my grasp. If I could take control of the world's major economic centers, as I had almost done that first time, the planet would have no choice but to defer to me. My robots defeated all armed forces at the time…only Mega Man could stop them." Hardness came into the mad scientist's eyes. "All I had to do was to make robots that could hold off Mega Man…I had to overcome his design…I had to overcome _Light._

            "I thought I had succeeded, during my seventh rebellion. His name was Bass. Light had been responsible for Mega Man's remarkably human characteristics, but I had some success myself in copying the human mind. Bass was as much a 'real person' as Mega Man was. I thought." His voice became weaker. "But in the end I failed with him. He was too free a spirit to conform to order, and his mind was too one-track to truly be considered a freethinking machine. Now, looking back, I'm proud that he tried so hard and repeatedly to eliminate Mega Man…but at the time, all I could focus on was his failure. I drove him away from me because I gauged my success in defeating Light by how well my robots fared against Mega Man. Bass repeatedly failed, and so I believed that I had failed.

            "Bass, however, did provide me with the necessary materials for the future." He smiled, his white mustache curling slightly. "He retrieved plans from Light's lab…plans for a 'Reploid.'"

            "X," Zero realized, his throat going dry.

            "Yes, X." Wily's grin faded. "What I saw there almost disheartened me completely. I had been working overtime just keeping up with Light's oldest creation, and now here he was developing…developing…an _artificial human_!" The scientist shook his head, still amazed by the concept's feasibility. "He took Mega Man's mental structure and upgraded it in a way that no one had ever thought to do before. He was leaving me in the dust…leaving a gift for the future, ensuring that no matter what I did in the present, I would never be remembered forever as the greatest in my field."

            "And you couldn't accept that."

            "No. No I couldn't. So I took Light's plans and I created a Reploid of my own." The scientist smiled faintly at the man sitting across from him. "You."

            "And then you added that damn Virus," Zero finished, unable to hold it in. "You made me a madman. Why? Why did you _do _that to me?"

            "I didn't know what I was doing," Wily admitted. "At least, I thought I did…at the time. You see Zero…I imagined that any Reploids who were constructed in the future would be based off X's plans. I reasoned that if I created an entity that could access robots with that same structure and placed it in you…" He composed himself, presenting the hard truth. "I wanted to create a god."

            Zero absorbed it, and despite the difficulties of the situation he found himself understanding. "I would be able to take command of Reploids and use them for my own purposes."

            "Correct," Wily nodded enthusiastically. "Light left the world a toy. I wanted to leave the world a _ruler_. With your power, you could do what I never could in my lifetime."

            "What made you think I'd want to?"

            "I took it for granted." He shook his head sadly. "I was too used to robots that did my bidding blindly. I guess the idea of a robot that might truly defy me—on a scale even grander than Bass's—was too much of a concept to fully grasp. Anyway, it didn't work out. My 'Virus' is a simple yet effective program that lives inside an astral entity…the ultimate catalyst. In the Eighth Robot Rebellion, a meteor crashed into an island I was occupying as a base. From the crater, I came in contact with an incredible new source of power. Mega Man rescued its polar opposite, an alien robot named Duo, and together they destroyed most of my supply of what Duo called 'Evil Energy'. However," Wily smiled craftily, waggling a finger. "They didn't get my _whole_ supply."

            "You used the rest to create the Virus," Zero realized, his eyes going wide in concern.

            "Yes." Wily's face fell somewhat. "But I underestimated the Energy. It has a will of its own. Instead of being your tool, it used _you _as _its tool. I shut you down and placed you in stasis for 30 years, just like X, hoping it would be enough to keep the Virus in check."_

            "But that's history too," Zero finished painfully. "You left the world not a ruler, but a plague."

            "And I could care less, normally," Wily said haughtily. "I'm claiming my revenge on both the world and on Light, making life hell for his final creation."

            "So you made me…and the Virus…to surpass Light and X?"

            "Correct."

            "But you failed," Zero protested, not understanding. "X continually destroys Sigma, and Sigma is the Virus embodied."

            "Ha!" Wily laughed again, waving his hand in dismissal. "Sigma? No, Sigma is just as you were—a tool. You have not _seen_ the Virus embodied." An unreadable look came over Wily's face. "But you soon will."

            Without giving Zero time to dwell on that, Wily shifted his weight and resumed his tale. "As you recall, I gauged my success on how well my creations fared against Mega Man…and now, Mega Man X. I was furious, watching you from here, as you refused to follow your path. I watched with satisfaction at your…'punishment' as it came in various forms."

            "Glad you had a good laugh," Zero growled, feeling the conversation going bad already.

            "I was disappointed," Wily went on. "You were my last chance for success. If you failed, I would be damned to an eternity of absolute failure."

            "Most argue that you deserve it."

            "Perhaps I do." Wily's face changed then, back into the uplifted, almost giddy look Zero had seen when the encounter began. "But lo and behold, this day of days, you have done me proud at last. You fought me to the bitter end, doing everything in your power to rid yourself of my presence wholly and entirely. And in doing so…" Wily stopped to let out a bemused laugh. "In doing so, you have, I realize here and now, surpassed Light and Mega Man X. You have given me the fulfillment I've been waiting for."

            "_How?" Zero asked, totally unable to grasp the concept._

            "Don't you see?" Wily asked, leaning forward. "Mega Man X is a pacifist. He puts it aside when he fights, but that's just it, you see? _He puts it aside. That's all he does! That's all he _can _do. X cannot become anything but a pacifist. He cannot overcome himself, even if he wanted to._

            "But you, Zero, you were designed as a killing machine, as the man who would bring war to the future. You had the mission of killing X and ensuring your dominance over the world…_but you didn't! And not because you _failed_…you __simply chose not to! Somehow, someway, you managed to overcome your programming. You managed to defeat yourself. You emerged from Seraph Castle, whether you realize it yet or not, as a whole new person. The Virus can still reach you, but only in a technical sense. You have the advantage over it now, because you have already defeated it in the past. In doing this…you have done what Light's ultimate creation never could do. You have become the exact opposite of what you intended to be. X himself said it…power isn't everything. I see that now, because now I have no choice. You will never destroy X because you will never let yourself destroy X. I cannot gauge my success on battle anymore…but I can claim success on the fact that your…your 'spirit' has surpassed Light's best creation's. And that, Zero, means that I have succeeded at last._

            "For that," Wily said, leaning back and feeling awkward. "I have to thank you."

            For Zero, it was as though two rival factions were warring bloodily in his mind. Warnings flashed against the crafty scientist, memories of past torment and mockery filled his brain, and all the pain the old man had caused resurfaced at once. He hated Wily. He loathed him. He wanted nothing to do with the old man. The farther away from his father he was, the better he would be.

            But on the same token, there was something else in Zero now that he had never felt before. Despite his wealth of friends like X, mentors like Cain, and safe havens like the HQ, he had never felt such an absolute sense of…acceptance. How ironic that it should now come from the man Zero considered to be his most absolute antagonist. In the end, the two conflicting emotions were a bit too much. He felt sick.

            "Of course," Wily picked up again, "I also wanted to warn you."

            The craftiness in the old man's voice shattered Zero's bubble of uncertainty, and actually put both of them at ease. Wily was _supposed _to be crafty. Zero could deal with that a lot easier than he could warmth from the man.

            "My ambitions have finally been sated," Wily continued, "so there's no reason for _me to try and undo what you've done to yourself. …Not that I wouldn't just love it if you went suddenly apeshit and ripped X limb from limb…"_

            "Keep dreaming," Zero interjected flatly.

            "Of course," Wily said in resignation. "But others are still interested in bringing you back to your former self. Two in particular."

            "Sigma," Zero acknowledged. "Both of him."

            "I suggest you take care of him here and now," Wily offered, standing shakily. It gave Zero cause for reflection, seeing how old the "threat" actually was. He also thought about exactly what Wily was saying to him, and that in itself was amazing. "Yes," the scientist affirmed, "I'm actually rooting for you _against the Virus. You have succeeded where it has failed."_

            "But couldn't it still defeat X?" Zero had to ask. "Couldn't it succeed there?"

            "No," Wily shook his head, a flat look on his face. "It was never intended in itself to defeat X. It was supposed to help _you_ do that."

            "But why?" Zero pressed. "Why can't the Virus get X? What makes him immune?"

            "You'll find that out when you meet…him."

            "Him?"

            "Well," Wily smiled mysteriously. "He has no real gender…but he is very real." The scientist snapped to attention, a conversational grin appearing on his wrinkled features. "Well, enough talking. You can worry about all that later. For now, deal with the task at hand, my son. And for once…" He seemed to shudder. "God, this is an alliance made in Hell…for once, I'm going to tell you to…trust in that…_friend_ of yours."

            "Friend?" Zero asked, perplexed. "Who do you mean? X?"

            "No, not X…argh. Just trust me…this will help you defeat 'him'," Wily explained, sort of, unwilling to elaborate.

            Zero blinked, standing also, looming over the old man, and asking one final question. "Why are you telling me all this? Why warn me?"

            The room began to spin as Zero began the return trip to consciousness. Wily was the only thing that didn't move or flinch. "I want to see how far you can go," he explained to his son. "I want to know that, even though you won't fight X, you can still demolish the most capable of opponents. And…well, I guess I can't have you getting killed now that you've gone and actually done something right for a change."

            It wasn't much of a parental send-off, but Zero understood the sentiment. It was so alien to him, but at the same time he welcomed it. He had never, ever expected an encounter like this to happen, but Wily for once seemed to have kept his word. Proof came from how hard a time the old man was having being nice. Now _that was effort, Zero thought wryly._

            As he returned to the snowscape of the Catskill Mountains, a voice echoed through the spinning vortex, a voice from a familiar nightmare, only now it meant something wholly different.

            "Now go…destroy him!"

            For the first time in two days, the clouds parted over the Catskill Mountains. The blizzard that had powdered the peaks with snow was now officially over. The end result was a bright moon shining like a spotlight on the expanse below, reflecting off the white ground to create a well-lit atmosphere, even in the dead of night. The wind had also subdued a bit, grabbing wisps of snow from the ground and tossing them about, but otherwise the air was clear of too much interference. The night was also a quiet one for once, without air raids or gunfire in the distance, or giant airships firing EMG pulses. Sure, a bigass ride armor had crashed to earth a while ago, but that was over now. In fact the only sound that could be heard was the steady crunching of snow under large boots.

            A big man carrying a big box marched over the top of a massive snow hill, heading down the other side towards a large clearing. Remarkably, the man noticed, the clearing was more or less free from snow, and the rocky earth was in plain sight, unadulterated by ice. The nearby mountains must have shielded it, he realized, hoisting his heavy luggage higher and striding faster. Past that large, circular clearing there would be another stretch and then an area that was safe for teleportation. He knew this well. He had to reach that area, had to reach it before anyone spotted him. Then he was free.

            The moonlight illuminated him perfectly, glaring off his jade armor and highlighting his polished black combat boots. He stepped into the clearing, grateful for solid rock beneath his feet rather than inch upon inch of accursed snow. Finally, he thought, this ridiculous escapade would come to a close.

            Then, of all things to happen, a snowball exploded against the back of his bald head.

            The man stopped dead in his tracks, his arms hanging limp at his side. So much else had gone wrong tonight that he wasn't even surprised when he turned his head behind him and saw, standing there in the snow atop the hill he'd just crossed in an easy, relaxed pose, a tall red Reploid. His long blonde hair fluttered behind him, and the moon chose to play with his armor too, bathing the white snow around him with a blood red hue. Like the man in green, the man in red had his arms hanging limp at his side, staring lazily forward, not a care in the world.

            "Going somewhere?"

            The man in green merely frowned. "Zero, how long will you keep this up?"

            "I think you know the answer to that, Sigma."

            Neither moved. Neither tensed.

            "Suppose I detonate this weapon here and now," Sigma suggested, shaking the big black box containing the Spare. "I always return. But you won't. Not after nuclear atomization."

            "Neither will you," Zero smiled knowingly. "If you detonate that, the electrical impulses it will cause will do more than vaporize your body—it'll prevent the Virus from transferring your consciousness to any of your other bodies."

            Sigma absorbed that. He still didn't move.

            "So then, Zero…would _you set off a nuke here? To destroy me, would it be worth it?"_

            Neither blinked. Neither showed emotion.

            "Well you see," Zero said in that same flat tone. "I'm not the one with the bomb."

            Sigma absorbed that, too. This time, he turned his head to the area beyond the clearing he'd just entered. It was too far, he realized. He could never reach the area he needed to get to without Zero interfering somehow. Before anything could happen, it seemed he would have to kill the annoying Hunter behind him. "Do you really think you can defeat me?" Sigma asked, turning his head back to his adversary with a smile.

            "I don't imagine it's all that hard," Zero said with the most nonchalant of shrugs. "Hack, slash, go home, have a beer. Nothing too complicated."

            "You're awfully confident." Sigma turned so his whole powerful body was facing Zero. Unlike Sigma, who though scratched up from the fall was still in perfect heath, Zero had absorbed considerable wounds and had used his only E-Tank to prepare himself for this battle. He was on his last legs. "In the past, only X could defeat me. You stopped me together in Final Weapon, and back there you stopped my Marauder…but only with X's help."

            "Well you see," Zero said, stepping slowly down the hill, the cracks in his armor all too painfully apparent, though he didn't seem to notice, "in the past, it's been more between you and X. Last time, in Final Weapon, I wanted you for myself. And I'm actually pretty upset that I didn't get to have all the fun myself." Zero took his deactivated beam saber from its sheath and began twirling it like a parade baton in the fingers of his left hand. "Now, though…it's just you and me. X is miles back, trying to catch up."

            "Still personal, hmm?" Sigma asked. Frowning in more annoyance than anything else, he hoisted the Spare and lofted it into a nearby snow bank. Then he drew his own deactivated weapon and turned to enter the clearing, which he saw as a suitable arena. There was no tension in him…none of the fear or uncertainty that had briefly seized him aboard the Marauder was present any longer.

            "Very personal." Zero entered the clearing himself, fixing Sigma's back with eyes that were becoming more and more poisonous. "You've used me as your psychological guinea pig for far too long. You, and that Virus in your head…if it's not the Virus I'm talking to now."

            Sigma gave him no confirmation positive or negative. Instead he turned slowly to look his enemy in the eye, his trademark sneer appearing on his face. The way he saw it, without X, he really did have the advantage over Zero. Zero was a good swordsman, sure, but Sigma had taught the guy all the basics from his own book. Sigma knew the right feints and parries to use on Zero in a swordfight, whereas he had a lot more trouble judging X's long range attack strategies. His viral master was also hungry for the fight. "It's just that you make it so easy, Zero. You hang on to Colonel and Iris like a leech…let it go, man." He shook his head in something mimicking pity. "You place too much stock in the wrong emotions. Rage, hate, fine, but love? Loyalty? Please. They are the emotions of fools. And that, Zero, is your weakness."

            "No, Sigma," Zero said as a column of sizzling green energies slid out from his saber's hilt. "Love and loyalty? Friends? Those things…they are not my weakness." His eyes narrowed and his voice was stone. "They are my strengths. You, you're so obsessed with power and hatred…like X said, that obsession is what makes you weak."

            Sigma's dark blue blade rose from its own hilt, its hum a soothing thing to its master. "You know, you're right," he said, taking an attack position. "We've never had a chance to fight our own deathmatch." His sneer grew even more malevolent. "So let us see, then, my old friend, what strength _truly is…once and for all!"_

            Zero met his stance, his breathing normal but his body ready. At long last, it was going to happen, he thought. He could end it here. All those Sigma had manipulated…Doppler, Colonel, Iris, General…Malevex, Teytha, Mortar and Gredam…X and Zero himself…he could avenge them all now. Playing its own role, the wind tossed a larger handful of snow than usual in between the two combatants, forming a white curtain that lingered for a few seconds, and then vanished. The last flake was swept away…

            …And then it was on.

            Zero and Sigma didn't even consider silence. Both emitted their own signature war cries, two berserkers rushing each other for a quick kill neither expected. Blue blade and green blade, jade coat and red coat, bald Spartan and blond demon approached each other speedily, bringing their weapons flying towards their opponent. Zero's cry grew louder and down his sword went with tremendous force…

            …And then Sigma vanished in a flash of light, leaving coils of electrical energies in his wake.

            Zero let his momentum carry through, somersaulting through the air and twisting at the same time, coming to his feet facing the opposite direction just as Sigma reappeared in the same curtain of energies to his right, swinging his deadly weapon out with a feral cry. Meeting the yell, Zero swung his own sword out enough to parry Sigma's slice, hating the Maverick for his short-range warp capability, and dove in with his own attack. Sigma leapt nimbly backwards, smashing Zero's saber away with his own and bringing the weapon back around at the Hunter's throat. Zero's neck twisted back and away, and he dove forward again with a sucker punch to Sigma's jaw. The Maverick pulled away but still took a light hit, lashing out with a heavy boot. Zero leapt into the air clear over Sigma and his outstretched foot, coming down behind the Maverick to slice him in two. Sigma responded by kicking back his boots and letting his own thrusters come to life, carrying him away from Zero's attack and skating across the clearing.

            "I see your skills have improved since we last trained together," Sigma commended him, not even winded by the exertion as he turned back around. "How long ago was it? Over a decade, I'm sure."

            "Back when you stood for something other than failure," Zero said scathingly, taking position. "I remember."

            "Don't pretend you stand for anything different," Sigma retorted hotly, his eyes blazing. "You failed Repliforce, and countless others like them!"

            "We all make mistakes," Zero admitted. "But unlike you, I've learned from and remedied mine."

            "Is that so?" Sigma asked, a cunning look entering his eyes. "Prove it!"

            Zero responded by leaping high into the air by aid of his thrusters. "Hyouretszuan!" he cried, coming down with his lance of ice. Sigma, expecting it, actually leapt up to meet Zero, and with a mighty cry he smashed his sword clear through the hunk of deadly ice while at the same time delivering an uppercut to Zero's chin. The Hunter's head snapped back and blood trickled down his lips, but when he landed it was on his feet. Then he noticed that Sigma hadn't landed.

            Zero barely had time to clear the stars from his eyes before Sigma materialized behind him, slashing at his back. He dashed forward, turning, but Sigma had warped again, leaving only electrical coils for Zero to behold. He came to Zero's side, and Zero only barely parried. Another warp, another attack, another parry. Zero began to regain his full senses, and recognized that Sigma was taking the "float like a butterfly, sting like a bee" strategy to the next level. Sigma next appeared above him, falling down with a powerful overhand chop that split the ground near Zero's feet. Taking advantage of the opportunity, the Hunter lashed out and kicked Sigma in the head, snapping him back through the air. He disappeared before hitting the ground, warping behind Zero and rushing him again.

            Realizing the need for a new strategy, Zero took to the skies, leaping as high as he could without thruster aid. Sigma followed him not with a jump but another warp, materializing a bit below Zero, anticipating his fall. His swing met thin air, however, because Zero actually jumped _again_, putting Kuuenbu to full use. Sigma, unused to the attack, expected it to happen again and so this time materialized in front of Zero, but the Hunter didn't jump again—he couldn't. Split Mushroom's parting gift allowed only for one extra jump. It did, though, provide him this next opportunity. He somersaulted, holding his saber out in front of him, and it grew slightly longer and thicker, taking on a gold hue. This spinning slash attack caught Sigma's sword and carried it upwards. Sigma did not let go, but it gave Zero all the room he needed to boot the Maverick King hard in the gut.

            This time both of them landed, both of them on their feet, though Sigma was clearly worse for the wear. Growling in rage, the Maverick wiped blood from his own lips and fixed Zero with a deadly glare. "Special attacks, is it?" he hissed, even as coils of deadly blue lightning snaked around him. "So be it!"

            That was all the warning Zero got. Sigma warped again, but this time he was farther to Zero's left flank. He spun, expecting a sword attack, but what happened was Sigma extended his blade and from the tip sprang a bolt of blue lightning. Zero's parrying action actually saved him, because the bolt traveled under his arm instead of into it. "Sneaky bastard!" Zero growled, leaping into the air at his enemy.

            He quickly wished he hadn't. Sigma shrugged, grinned, and fired again. In the air there was a lot less maneuverability for Zero, and he had to throw himself hard to the left to avoid a hit. What this meant was that he foiled his balance entirely, and would come down in a heap.

            He didn't see Sigma slam his blade into the ground, but he did see the curtain of energies that spread across the earth as a result of it. And he was falling right towards it.

            "Shit!" he had time to swear before coming down hard on the shockwave that had nearly killed Acrystos earlier inside Seraph Castle's core. Immediately he screamed in frustration as he felt his limbs lock up in paralysis—much like Vile's stun cannon of years past. Zero remembered full well what had happened to him then, and it didn't bode well for the here and now.

            His next scream was one of absolute, incredible pain as a bolt of Sigma's unholy lightning struck him square in the chest. It coursed through every inch of his body, burning him like acid from the inside out, driving his internal systems to overload as the energy ran its wicked course. His body was racked with shudders that only partially died with the electricity.

            Then Sigma fired again.

            Zero's vision faded slightly as the current grew stronger, but he still made out the scene in front of him. Sigma vanished from his position far away. Near Zero, sparks of energy appeared, spread out, formed thin electric links, and coalesced into the Maverick King that Zero hated so much. Sigma didn't bother to hide his mirth, extending his saber and letting a thinner cord of electricity shoot out into the trapped Hunter, feeding the electrical prison more and more deadly power.

            "Hate is my weakness, eh?" Sigma laughed darkly, savoring every last precious second of Zero's agony. "No, Hunter. Hate is what makes me feel _alive!" His eyes narrowed, fixing Zero with the most condescending of sneers. "And it is what brings you to your _grave_!"_

            Zero wasn't listening anymore. All the will he had used to survive Marauder's electrical curtain he brought back now, focusing on it, using it, depending on it. All his mind, all his body, all his being was focused on one thing and one thing only: resistance.

            "_DIE!" he finally raged, and all his efforts bore fruit as his sword arm broke free of Sigma's paralysis and the blade shot out towards the Maverick. Immediately it grew longer and incredibly thick, pulsating with its own electrical energies as it struck Sigma in the chest with a thunderous force equal to his own attack. __"RAIJINGEKI!" Zero screamed, though it was mostly drowned out by Sigma's own howl of pain._

            For what seemed like forever, the quiet night was shattered completely by two continuing, intermingled cries of agony and determination, while light as bright as the sun passed between two enraged rivals. Finally, mercifully, Sigma could take no more and exploded into the electrical coils that had so viciously assaulted him, and Zero was rendered free of his enemy's assault.

            Zero stood up. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Every system in his body hollered for him to fall over and stay down forever. Blood trickled from his mouth and ears, messing up the inside of his helmet, but he didn't care. He was alive. He had persevered. And Sigma…

            Zero felt the air behind him shift as the Maverick warped into being. He tried to turn, but his systems were too slow, too sluggish after the high voltage onslaught to comply in time to fully avoid Sigma's lethal blade. He felt the sword eat into his back, cut past armor and into flesh, but only barely before it spun Zero around and onto the ground, bleeding profusely.

            Sigma watched Zero fall. He watched in what was for him slow motion. Seeing the thorn in his side, the rebel who should have been his right hand man, in such agony caused a thrill to rise in Sigma, a joy he had not known since he watched Zero weep over Iris's corpse on a Final Weapon holoscreen. This was what the Hunter deserved, Sigma knew. There would be no more second chances for this bastard, the Maverick King decided then and there. Only punishment.

            "You see, Zero?" Sigma asked with a wicked laugh, raising his sword and approaching the fallen Hunter. "You're nothing without X, after all."

            Zero watched him come, heard him speak, watched him raise his sword for the kill. Despite his efforts, despite his rage, despite his _hate_, he couldn't muster the energy his ruined body needed to stand.

            _Hate…_

            His own words came to mind. Rage…hate…he'd called those _weaknesses._ Why was he trying to rely on them? Why them, instead of his _strengths_? Then came another voice, a voice he'd just heard recently and hadn't known why.

            _But also…I wanted to warn you._

            Zero had to smile at the unbelievable situation. Wily actually _had been truthful about something in his damned life. His father had warned him of this situation, and now it was up to Zero to utilize it._

            Sigma didn't hear the word Ryuenjin pass between Zero's lips. He didn't even see the burning sword until it was far too late. As he came down with his sword, Zero came up with his, rising into the air propelled by burning thrusters and dragging a burning sword against Sigma's torso. The Maverick King screamed as the weapon seared through his armor and flesh, burning into his body and driving him away from his hated opponent, but not soon enough to escape the full brunt of Zero's thrusters in his face. Screaming once again, Sigma warped clear of the area, reappearing at the edge of the clearing as a smoking, scalded shroud of his former glory. It reminded him all too well of that same rising fire sword cleaving apart his reaper's garments aboard Final Weapon and setting him aflame, forcing him to discard his first attack pattern and confront the Hunters directly. He hadn't been happy then, and he wasn't now.

            Zero landed on his feet and turned sharply towards Sigma. He didn't move, instead letting his systems recharge themselves from both his own attack and the damage Sigma had dealt him. His back was hurting him something fierce, and his head still ached, but the thrill of victory was within him. He called out to Sigma, not at all believing the words he spoke but seeing no reason not to freak out the enemy with them.

            "You were wrong, Sigma—I don't need X. In the eyes of some…I've surpassed him."

            Sigma let out a shriek of pure rage, throwing his saber up into the air above him where it began to hover around his person. It moved faster and faster, eventually going so fast that there appeared to be more than one of them. And then, when they stopped moving, there _were _more of them—five to be exact. One was real, and the others were energy clones, much in the fashion of X's Soul Body.

            "Surpass _this," Sigma seethed, gesturing angrily towards Zero. "SWORDS DANCE!"_

            The Crimson Hunter was quite impressed as the five beam sabers flew his way, their tips sparking with explosive energies. He didn't show it, however, because by and large it didn't matter. He didn't think he was any better than X, but he'd like to at least consider himself to be his friend's equal. And that meant that he had no need for assistance in disposing of this wannabe tyrant. Zero waited for the swords to get as close as they were going to get, drawing a sharp breath as from their tips they shot not bolts of lightning per se, but large, thick blasts of energies that tore up the ground they impacted like dynamite. Zero now activated his Emergency Acceleration System, and so began the ride of his life.

            Sigma controlled his swords mentally, following Zero's movements to a T. Zero dashed far to the right, going all the way to the edge of the circular clearing before veering around and dashing along the perimeter. The swords followed, raining their deadly energies down around the Maverick Hunter. They moved faster than Zero could, chasing him with unrelenting vigor. Sigma could taste victory at last, and again he savored the moment. He hated Zero right now almost as much as he hated X. He'd taken X's arm off earlier, and that alone brought to him more satisfaction than this whole bloody uprising had. Now he would take more from Zero than an arm, he decided, moving the swords into position in a circle around the Hunter. It was at last time for the teacher to put his pupil in his place.

            Zero watched the swords come, felt their projectiles getting closer and closer to him. He weaved sharply to the left, to the right, to the right again, dodging the blasts to the best of his ability. It came down to this, he knew. If he took a hit, he would never recover in time. This had to work…it _had to_.

            The blades encircled Zero as per their master's command. Their charge was running low—the four copies would flicker out soon. All were energy, but one was real—one would pierce Zero and end his struggles.

            "Play the prophet!" Sigma shouted, mad with sadistic glee, making a mockery of both his enemy and of scripture. "Which one struck you?" As he spoke, the blades dove down at once, each no longer firing but going directly for Zero's torso.

            And then, the Hunter stopped.

            "What…?" Sigma had time to gasp before Zero leapt into the air, shouted Kuuenbu, and deflected each and every blade with a single 360-degree sword swipe. "_Impossible!" the Maverick King raged, stunned in his disbelief. "__Absolutely impossible!"_

            "You should really be more of a believer in miracles, Sigma," Zero snarled, resuming his high-speed dash directly towards his enemy. "Believe me, they happen!"

            Sigma could think of nothing to do except warp clear of Zero's line of attack. He reappeared near the center of the clearing and summoned back his sword, the copies vanishing with electric crackles. In fact he'd played right into Zero's hand. The Hunter utilized Kuuenbu again, kicking his feet out and propelling himself off a nonexistent wall, defying all laws of physics with Mushroom's tactic and flying towards the genocidal Reploid waiting center stage.

            And Sigma, his eyes clouding with a rage born out of desperation, extended his sword as soon as he caught it and fired a lightning bolt.

            Zero had prayed above all things that this would not happen. It was the only thing that could foil his plans. When it did happen, though, he swore and did the only thing he could—he moved his sword into position to try and deflect the attack. Instead, the powerful bolt jarred the sword clear free of his hands and sent Zero tumbling over Sigma into a roll that ended with Zero on his feet, but weaponless. He quickly darted to the side to avoid a similar bolt of lightning, looking Sigma dead in the eye as both combatants froze in their paths.

            Sigma let a chuckle escape his lips. He knew he had won. Zero was beaten and exhausted from the Marauder fight, and was wearing down now. Sigma himself was wounded, but he still had a lot of fight left in him. And now, Zero was without a sword, and didn't seem to have the magnetic recall Sigma so very much loved to use himself.

            But then Zero did something that riveted Sigma in place with the sheer force of memory—he threw back his head and laughed.

            It was a diabolic laugh, a laugh of madness, a laugh that Sigma had heard only once before from this red machine. It had occurred in an abandoned building, before the wars had started, when Sigma had faced off against Zero alone and would have died save for a foul-up in Zero's CPU. "You crazy bastard," Sigma said breathlessly, hating his voice for its lack of force but unable to do anything about it.

            Zero, for his part, was having the time of his life. He broke off the laugh long enough to look at Sigma with a wild-eyed, crazy-grinned expression that perfectly matched the one he'd worn during their first battle, and that unnerved the Maverick even more. Zero wasn't crazy—wasn't even close. This was an act. But he knew full well that Sigma had seen him when he was crazy. That bastard had turned Zero's past into a sword with which to pierce his heart. Zero saw no reason why he should not do the same to Sigma. He was the manipulator now, for perhaps the first time in his life, and he was able to savor every minute of it. _An eye for an eye, you son of a bitch, he thought as his grin widened. __Justice at last will find you!_

            Without another gesture Zero raced towards Sigma with nothing but his bare fists, yelling a war cry at the top of his strained lungs. Sigma met his cry with a much less enthused one, raising his sword to defend himself instead of cutting the Hunter down then and there, like he should have. Sigma swung hard at Zero, who leapt clear over both the blade and its master, blasting backwards in midair. He whirled around and kicked Sigma hard between his shoulder blades, spilling the bigger man forward and off balance. Letting his instincts take over, Zero began his cry anew and dashed towards the Maverick as he turned around, dropping and sweeping Sigma's legs out from under him. Sigma yelled to express his own fury and swung a punch towards Zero as he fell, one that Zero deftly dodged as he fired his own punch at the side of Sigma's face. It connected and snapped the Maverick's head back, and he rolled clear away from Zero, coming frantically to his feet.

            "Scared, Sigma?" Zero asked in a cold, calm tone, letting the Maverick absorb the inflection of each word before going on.

            "Good."

            Sigma's mind became enshrouded in rage, rage at Zero for getting to him, but most of all rage at himself for allowing himself to be taken advantage of. He charged Zero with an animalistic roar, raising his sword to cut the Hunter clear into pieces, holding eye contact all the while.

            Zero noticed it and did the most illogical thing possible—he stood still. It was a card he'd played with Malevex, and he hoped beyond hope that it worked here. It did. Sigma's logic circuits began to go on the warpath, making him cautious, making him paranoid. He began to second-guess himself, wondering what the hell this mad Hunter had up his sleeve that he was just standing there. His self-confidence wavered for the briefest of seconds, but that was all that Zero ever needed.

            Shouting a cry for the dead and the wounded who had become so because of Sigma, Zero leapt right into the onrushing Maverick, who's sword chop became instantly ineffective due to Zero's point blank range. The Hunter moved like lightning, slipping his arms around Sigma's left and twisting it around with all of his considerable might. Sigma screamed as he felt one of his steel bones give way, but Zero wasn't finished. He attacked Sigma's suddenly weak grip on his weapon and wrenched the beam saber out of its master's hands. He then returned it by spinning on his heel and using his forward momentum to lance the weapon into and through Sigma's chest.

            Time stopped again. Sigma's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped in shock as he realized what had just happened to him. Zero stared at him with a look of pure sentience, a look that told Sigma he'd been duped, a look that told him Zero both knew what was going on and savored it as much as Sigma would have. It was indeed a sadistic link they shared, but for one of them the link would finally break with the fall of his present opponent.

            "You lose," Zero said, spitting in Sigma's unblinking eye. "Old friend."

            Sigma staggered away from Zero, looking at the bleeding, broken Hunter with a mixture of disbelief, awe, and even a sense of newfound respect. "So…it seems…true strength has been decided."

            "It was decided long before we ever started fighting, Sigma." Zero stood proud and tall, breathing heavily and in great pain, but enjoying his role as the victor to the fullest. "But as usual, you were just too blind to realize it."

            Sigma didn't reply. He stiffened somewhat, and his jaw dropped more in what wasn't exactly pain, but was more of…confusion. "What…?" he managed to say before his back arched and his body twisted towards the sky as he let out the loudest scream Zero had ever heard. The Hunter stepped backward reflexively, sensing that this was more than a death cry. Sigma twitched like he was being electrocuted, and indeed coils of his blue thunder did snake around his person. His saber still burned brightly in his chest, though that didn't seem to be the cause of his woes.

            Then he snapped forward before straightening to his full, imposing height, his eyes now a blistering, burning shade of red.

            "I never lose," the Virus reminded Zero, its voice an echoing form of Sigma's. "I never _fail!"_

            Before Zero could even think to react, his enemy sprang towards him with a speed Zero hadn't seen him ever use before. The Maverick's fist shot out with incredible force, slamming into Zero's chest with all the weight of a train. Unable to even cry out, the Hunter flew fifteen feet in the air and landed in a crumpled heap at the edge of the clearing. It felt like a steamroller had crushed him. He tried to sit up, but his body refused. He felt a tightening in his chest, like an invisible claw was squeezing his heart and lungs, and then he looked down to notice the results of Sigma's punch.

            His chest armor had been crushed inwards.

            Choking on what had to be blood, Zero looked up in shock as Sigma approached him, chuckling nonstop as he tore his saber from his chest. A gout of blood spilled out and Zero beheld the inner workings of his hated enemy, but still the monster kept coming, fixing Zero with eyes crimson enough to match his armor.

            "Hate, rage, wrath , cruelty," the Virus went on as it approached its prey, "it's all a part of a delicious whole. You chose to reject it…and for what? Friends? What did you call it—your strength? Love? Loyalty? _HA!" Sigma twirled the sword in his hands, looking down at his helpless target, all but salivating as blue tendrils of electricity swirled around his body. He would fairly disintegrate Zero with his electricity, he decided. "Look where it got you, Zero. You chose to follow your own path…" The sword angled down to Zero's ruined chest as Sigma prepared his attack._

            "_Now face the consequences!"_

            Zero didn't close his eyes. He didn't flinch. He didn't give the Virus any satisfaction at all as it lowered its pulsating sword to begin its assault of deadly energies. He looked his enemy in the eye, hating it for its cheap tricks, hating it for cursing his life, and hating it above all else for taking life from him when he had just won back the right to live. But there would be no satisfaction the Virus would take from him. He held his gaze, and watched it all. _Friends, he thought sadly. _X…I guess I needed you after all.__

            What he saw didn't click into place for a good while, but when it did, it was next to unbelievable.

            The sapphire coat of lightning surrounding Sigma suddenly took on a new hue. Zero thought it was just his eyes failing him, but it did seem that the energy was turning purple. It didn't make sense to the Hunter until he saw that this was because there was now red electricity intermixed with the blue.

            Sigma noticed it himself just as he began his attack. A pillar of blue death struck Zero in his torso, but one scream was all that left the Hunter's lips before the attack broke off and Sigma picked up the scream on his own. His body went rigid as he struggled to get out of some kind of cage, and while Zero looked on in confusion and pain more red lightning snaked over the Maverick leader, adding fuel to his fire. He screamed bloody murder, devoting all of his considerable strength to shaking off the new, unidentified attack, and finally succeeded as the crimson cage faded. No sooner had he smiled in satisfaction than a telltale sound filled both the ears of the Hunter and the Maverick…

            …It was the whistle of a mortar round.

            The explosion occurred behind Sigma, throwing him clear over Zero with a surprised yowl. He sank into the snow, rising almost as quickly as he fell, a shredded, bleeding wreck. But the eyes were still red rabid and mad, the Virus was still willing, and Sigma's flesh was not yet wholly weakened. He looked at Zero as though he were a demon, clearly conveying with his expression that he believed Zero was responsible for the attacks when in fact the Hunter was quite baffled.

            "_Enough of your tricks!" the Virus shrieked, raising Sigma's sword and rushing at his prey. "__NOW DIE! ZERO!!!!"_

            The cry ended and Sigma's final charge began. Zero watched in defiance, unsure what to think, or even of what was reasonable to hope for anymore.

            Then there came the clear crack of a sniper's rifle through the night air, and that was the last thing Commander Sigma heard before his head exploded in a cloud of scrap and coolant.

            Time froze yet again. Zero watched Sigma's headless, bloody corpse fall to its snowy grave in slow motion, landing a mere six feet from where Zero now lay. The Hunter stared for perhaps five seconds, which lasted triple their normal time in his state, before returning to reality. He lay there five more seconds before he saw them, and the truth of it all racked him with ironic laughter that was too painful to continue. He sat up, again an act of pure will, and focused his vision on the three blurry forms standing at the opposite end of the clearing. The strengths Zero had cited for himself replayed in his mind, and a slow smile crept onto his pain stricken face. He couldn't quite call them friends, and he was certain there was no love lost between them…but there was definitely something to be said for loyalty.

            It seemed Terrornova had gotten their vengeance, after all.

            The figure in the middle, a man armored in black clutching Gredam's rifle at his side, stepped forward. "That's twice in one uprising," he said with the faintest of smiles, motioning to his rifle and then to Sigma, his voice carrying to Zero perfectly.

            "You crazy bastards," Zero managed to whisper, his grin getting wider at Malevex's comment.

            The Maverick assassin exhaled slowly, as though pronouncing finality. "It seems that the halo has been broken, after all." Zero understood. It was over. At long last, it was all over. The Maverick inclined his head to a sound in the distance—footsteps in the snow. Someone was coming, and coming fast. He turned back to Zero, a strange look taking his features. A raven-haired woman and a gray haired man stepped up to his flanks, both eyeing Zero with the same gaze. The wind kicked up violently all of a sudden, blowing a sheet of snow in between Zero and his saviors. The Hunter barely made out the three of them turning and marching away to the freedom they'd sought for so long. When the snow cleared there was no sign of them, but before that two words left the man in black's mouth and traveled to Zero's weary ears.

            "Thank you."

            Zero lay there for another minute, breathing slowly and deliberately while examining his internal wounds. Things were not looking good, but if he got out of there soon enough, he would survive. He was reassured when, in the distance over the snow hill he'd crossed while chasing Sigma, a familiar form appeared, a form that Zero had never been happier to see.

            "X," he breathed, laughing again. "God, you missed it…you would have loved it."

            It was the last thing he said before he was taken.

            It came like the claws of a wild beast, grabbing at his head from behind. In shock, the Hunter turned to behold what he could only describe as a blackish blob rising from Sigma's headless corpse and bathing his own body. Identifying it for what it was, Zero let out a cry of defiance that brought X running faster, but he would be far too late.

            "No," Zero growled, lashing out but not harming the entity in any way. He didn't know how to fight it. He had never fought Evil Energy before…he had never _seen Evil Energy before. Neither had X, from the look of things. The Hunter stopped briefly in shock at the edge of the clearing, watching in disbelief as the Virus reclaimed its original host._

            He didn't have much to watch after that. The entity vanished, and Zero emitted one last choking cry and went still.

            "NO!" X couldn't stand the thought that he'd been too late. He blasted his way across the clearing using his thrusters to the best of their abilities, turning Zero over with the arm he had left and trying his damndest to wake his friend up. "ZERO!" he shouted. "ZERROOO!"

            Darkness. Everything was darkness.

            It was an interesting darkness though, Zero thought, rather like Malevex's black fire. It crept and crawled like slime across walls of lighter ebon, providing some sort of depth and substance to wherever the hell his consciousness had been transported. As far as he could tell he was his own person, and as he looked over himself he was surprised to see that he was good as new. "What in the world?" he asked the nothingness, turning to examine his surroundings.

            Never before had the word "void" held so much meaning to him.

            It was like being in outer space. There was a gigantic sense of nothing—no air, no molecules, no anything. But it was even more than that—no emotion, no sense of presence. Only Zero, and the shadows. There wasn't even a focal point in the area.

            "Ask, and ye shall receive," the Hunter muttered to himself, as the said focal point emerged.

            It was like a black mist, clustering together around a light that wasn't black but red. The mist slowly began to condense, forming a flowing humanoid shape. The red light housed itself in the "chest" while a head without a face zeroed in on the only other presence. Until now, Zero was too shocked to speak, unsure of exactly what he was facing, but his "guest" did the speaking for him. It used a masculine tone, earning itself the pronoun "he" in Zero's mind, but the voice was quiet and calm, not scathing and commanding like Sigma's. There was still power present, though, and it demanded and got Zero's attention right away.

            "My, my…it's been a while since I was here."

            Zero began to blossom with rage as he realized exactly what was happening—the Virus had taken him. After all his efforts, after all his successes, the damned alien force was invading again casually, as though Zero hadn't done a damn thing to resist it.

            "You're not a happy camper," the entity observed, seeming to cross his arms thoughtfully over his chest.

            "You're not welcome on these campgrounds," Zero retorted hotly, reaching for his saber. He was surprised to find that it was actually there. He ripped it out and switched on the blade, looking at the red glow in the center of his opponent. "You're the Virus."

            "The Virus?" There was the essence of a chuckle. "In a manner of speaking. The Virus is a part of me. But I am something much more than that." As he spoke, his head took on more of a shape, beginning to resemble something of an elongated skull. Thus the Evil Energy manifested itself once more, before the final creation of its former master. "In the past, I relied on your father while I regained my strength. Duo had reduced my life force…rendered me unable to continue on my own." Another chuckle. "But your father helped me there. Much to his folly."

            Zero's sword lowered and his eyes widened in concern, making the connection. "You're the one he warned me about."

            Coils of flame arched around the entity's "body", converging on the red "heart". Zero watched, intrigued despite himself, as the creature took on even more of a definite form.

            "I am the darkness in people's minds," he said, fixing Zero with a glare from his hollow eyes. As though realizing their hollowness for the first time, he drew fire to them now, and embers glowed in the place of eyeballs. Zero stepped back in alarm. "I manifested ages ago, and have roamed the galaxies in search of additional strength. I exist for one purpose—to bring darkness to all minds." He seemed to grin. "This planet—and Dr. Wily—provided me with a convenient way to do so."

            "Who are you?" Zero had to ask, completely engrossed in this monster's story.

            He seemed annoyed. "What is it with your Earthlings and your desire to name everything? Does it make it easier for you? Does it provide you with some measure of control when you can identify the unidentifiable?" He paused thoughtfully. "Well, of course it does. You are made in the image of a human, and humans fear the unknown. To give the unknown an identity is to conquer fear."

            The entity performed an easy flip, leaping higher in the void and getting into a cross-legged position. "Unfortunately, I have no one name, Reploid Zero. Sigma also faced this same conundrum. But that's not to say no one has ever chosen a name for me. I have been called many things by many individuals…but perhaps most relevant to you is this. The German Wily intended me to be a control unit for puppet Reploids around the world…the cruel mind…the evil brain. Gemeines Gehirn."

            "Wily created you to be a tool," Zero shook his head. "That's not what happened."

            "_NO, boy!" Gehirn snapped. "You haven't been listening! Wily did not create __me. He created the _Virus _while __using me. I am the driving force behind the Virus…the sentient will that keeps it hungry for new life. The more people the Virus infects, the better—it adds more and more darkness to the world. And that," he reminded the Hunter, "is my purpose._

            "Wily gave me everything I need to accomplish my goals for this planet," the entity continued, seeming to shift its weight. "He developed a code, as he told you, that would allow the Virus to access all Reploids made off X's design."

            "But he also said that X himself had nothing to worry about," Zero recalled. "Why?"

            "First of all," the creature of darkness hissed, "X has plenty to worry about. The Virus may not work on him, but 'Evil Energy', as you call it, is as potent as ever. But the reason X is safe from the Virus, Zero, and other Reploids aren't, is so painfully simple it'll slap you in the face when you hear it."

            He seemed to lean forward, as though he were whispering in Zero's ear. "X slept. For 30 years."

            Zero's eyes widened, and he understood. "The schematics…the capsule warning!"

            "Yes," Gemeines Gehirn nodded, pleased with his new host's speed. "Dr. Cain began a worldwide chain of Reploids based roughly on X's design, but roughly was enough. Light knew that the mind of a Reploid was too much for any CPU to process properly without some time to synchronize everything. Oh, it doesn't take _thirty years. Light just did that to be as safe as possible. I can't tell you exactly how long it takes, but I do know it's at least nine years." The creature seemed to grin again. "But what manufacturer will keep its products in storage for that long?"_

            Gehirn had a painful point, Zero had to admit. "So all the Reploids out there now…their minds are unstable?"

            "Isn't it obvious? From the start, Reploids would go randomly haywire. X never did. Reploids suffered motor and mental breakdowns. X never did. The brain of the modern Reploid has too many holes waiting for something like the Virus to invade. The Virus invades their neural network, finding these holes and simply locking down. X has no such holes. His mind was allowed time to solidify. You would be in the same boat, Zero, had Wily not put me inside you right at the start."

            "And what about Sigma?" Zero asked, too hopeful. "Why is he able to return so often?"

            Gemeines Gehirn chuckled ominously. "Don't think I'm going to give you that key. Sigma is my ultimate insurance…my ultimate puppet. As long as he exists, the Virus will remain." Again, the grin. "Don't get your hopes up, Zero. Even if you Earthlings manage to destroy the Virus, I'll still be here. Only Duo has what it takes to bring me down, and no one has seen or heard from him since the Eighth Rebellion. Hopefully he's space debris somewhere."

            "It doesn't matter," Zero finally said, shaking his head and raising his sword. "So long as you can't harm this planet anymore via the Virus, that's good enough for me."

            "Oh, but my dear Hunter," the shadowy force rumbled, the darkness around it beginning to shift. "Don't you see? You don't have a choice anymore. Before this night is over, you will belong to me once more. Just as daddy wanted."

            Tendrils shot out from the darkness and attached to Zero, snaking around him like vines. Gehirn laughed as his prisoner struggled. "Don't fight it. Sigma fought it for so long. I'm tired of the constant noise…it's so nice when you people just _shut up!"_

            Zero found himself wondering, almost immediately, how Sigma had ever held out as long as he had. Gemeines Gehirn and his Virus were together like an unstoppable bullet, burrowing into Zero's consciousness and seeking out the holes Gehirn had spoken of earlier. The Hunter had time to reflect on how that made no sense—he, too, had slept for thirty years, and those holes should be closed. But apparently there was a special place in Zero that had been long since reserved for the Virus, and it was busily hunting for it.

            Zero felt his life slipping away bit by bit. His memories flashed before him, one by one, and he lashed out to catch each flicker of his past, missing them all. The darkness surrounding him boomed with laughter, fighting the Reploid with all it had. "You thought you could purge yourself of me?" it asked in a voice full of malice. "You're even more a fool than Sigma was. He tried to use me…tried to make me into an advantage for _him_. But we both knew who the true master was. We both knew who enabled his constant resurrections. And now, when Sigma and I return in the future, with you by our side…what will be left to stop us, Zero? X?" Again the laughter. "His soul I will warp beyond recognition. I will punish that righteous fool the same way I punished that useless predecessor of his. Yes, I would have killed him…_killed him, Zero! But Duo interfered, that infernal wretch! _He _saved Mega Man from me. But where is Duo now? Where is salvation _now_?"_

            Zero couldn't answer vocally, and in any case he doubted Gehirn would be listening. But he knew precisely where the salvation had to come from—not from any outside source, but from himself. He'd learned that over the course of these previous hours. Others could do all they wanted to try and help him, but before he tried to help his own damn self, nothing they did would have any effect.

            And so again the Hunter fought, unable to cry out but resisting nonetheless, swinging his saber in mad arcs to cut the tendrils of Evil Energy away from his person. His enemy, undaunted, swarmed him with clouds of the noxious substance, searing his mind and body with painful darkness, eating away at his will and his sanity at the same time. Zero had long since blamed Sigma for his weakness in succumbing to the Virus, but now he understood full well that the Maverick King had never had a chance. Zero as he was now was no different than Sigma had been, all those years ago. Hunter Sigma had possessed a certain nobility, a comradely presence that was akin to General's. He had been a man surrounded by close friends and trusted mentors, a man happy with his place in the world.

            And the Virus had taken him nonetheless.

            How, Zero wondered, could he possibly succeed where a man just like him had failed? Zero had been at peace with himself after saving the assassins. He was again open to his friends and mentors. But still, the Virus was coming, unrelenting, and no matter how hard Zero tried there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was alone…and he knew he would fail. Rationale told him to beg, to make a deal with Gehirn, to try and use him as Sigma had, but Zero was too proud for that. And so he just kept fighting, determined that if he was going to lose himself, it would not be without the fight of his life.

            But even that was denied to him. All at once, a surge of energy that turned out to be Gehirn's "fist" smashed into his chest, much as Sigma's had earlier. The fist expanded in size as the shadows assaulting Zero pulled back to form a gigantic representation of Zero's opponent, the burning light in the creature's center making the Evil Energy look slightly purplish. Was this what Mega Man had seen all those years ago, Zero wondered as the fist closed around his body, hoisting him up to meet Gehirn's blazing eyes. It must have been. And then Duo had saved him. But Zero had no Duo, no otherworldly savior to guard against this equally alien menace. So he just glared right back, letting the Virus know once again that it could not frighten him.

            "I had expected a bit more of a challenge," the demon said with the faintest trace of disappointment. "But I suppose overcoming my original host in such a fell swoop is thrilling enough." The eyes grew brighter, laying bare Zero's mind to the hungry Virus, which began its invasion. "I have no need for your consciousness…I never did. I never intended to let you think for yourself, but then that idiot Sigma fouled everything up when he defeated you." His words were true. Zero cried out as he felt his sense of self fleeing him, abandoning him wholly to the void Gemeines Gehirn thrived in. "Good bye, Maverick Hunter Zero. It's been…fun…watching you work, but every dog has his day, and yours is long since past."

            Tendrils of inky darkness spilled over Zero's consciousness, threatening to black out all his remaining memories. He screamed with rage, he struggled, he did everything he could to break the demon's grip, but nothing worked. He was trapped, and it was a crushing feeling.

            Then it all stopped.

            Zero's eyes snapped open, daring once more to hope, daring to believe that as in all the other hopeless situations tonight, something unbelievable was going to take place. He was not disappointed. His head snapped back and he screamed again as Gehirn resumed his attack, but again the demon stopped, recoiling in something resembling pain. "What…!" In frustration he attacked Zero's whole body rather than just the mind, trying to disprove the message that he was getting from the Hunter's sentient core.

            The light was pure, white, and blinding. It seared Gemeines Gehirn to his own dark core, and he recoiled with a scream that echoed throughout the void's eternal entirety. "_Incompatible?" he shrieked in both confusion and denial. "__Why? He's the first host…the intended host! HOW CAN HE BE INCOMPATIBLE?"_

            Zero didn't know what was happening, why his body was rejecting the Virus, what this light was or why it was hurting Gehirn like it was. All he knew was that his memories had returned, his sense of self had returned, and he was never going to let them go again. And then, the light began anew, surrounding him like an outline. It brought to him a feeling of warmth, of comfort, a feeling that told him point blank that he was not at all alone, that someone was in that void with him, and that this new presence was not about to let the darkness make any more gains tonight. An old man's voice flashed again through Zero's mind, again making his warning all the more relevant.

            _"God, this is an alliance made in Hell…for once, I'm going to tell you to…trust in that…friend__ of yours."_

            "What is it?" Gehirn asked himself, frantically trying to crush Zero in his grip. "What inside you can possibly reject me? You are just the same as Sigma was…what do you have that he doesn't?" Even if Zero had an answer, he wouldn't have provided it. The light flashed brighter, and this time Gemeines Gehirn couldn't resist it. He reeled with an even greater scream, dropping Zero from his grasp and leaving the Hunter to his own devices.

            Though he didn't understand what was happening, Zero wasn't asking questions. With a scream of righteous indignation he wound up his arm and snapped it outward, hurling his beam saber and the warm white glow surrounding it into Gehirn's red pulsating core. It struck true, and the beast of darkness collapsed in on itself, a shrieking mass of Evil Energy dispersed.

            But even then it was not content to admit defeat. Like a tidal wave crashing towards shore, a surge of darkness ripped towards Zero, reaching out with arms of hate. Yelping in surprise, Zero quite simply turned and ran, not knowing where he was going but running nonetheless. It was all he could think to do. In the end, though, even he was no match for the speed of hate denied, and the tendrils fell upon him, pinning him down and swarming over him, a spider spinning its ensnaring web.

            But before the web was completed, Zero felt someone take hold of his shoulders and tear him away from the biggest mass of predators. Another flash of light sent the nearby threats scurrying away, though more came in their place. Nevertheless Zero was still pulled and dragged from their ravenous grasp, as the void began to fade and replace itself with a curtain of pure, shimmering white. Finally Zero kicked free the last tendril grabbing at his feet, flashing his demonic adversary a quick sample of his favorite finger before the alabaster seal closed completely, locking Zero away from the darkness that sought to claim his redeemed soul. Despite all possible odds, Zero had again pulled through.

            But like Mega Man before him, he'd needed assistance. Zero stood slowly, as though he expected himself to be suddenly incapable of the task, but his legs held out. He looked around, seeing nothing but an endless expanse of light. Nevertheless he still couldn't call this a void—unlike the previous area, this place had substance to it. There was an air of tranquility here, a sense of peace and warmth, things that had flashed through Zero's mind when the light was foiling the Evil Energy's plans. Now he was wholly immersed in these senses, and it was like a warm blanket. The Hunter began to turn around, feeling a brief stab of uncertainty as he looked for his rescuer, the one Gemeines Gehirn had been unable to handle. His breath caught in his throat and he went stone stiff as the uncertainty became more than a stab. A thousand different emotions flew through his mind at once, and he didn't know which one to focus on first.

            "I had often wondered what I'd say to you, when we met again." The words that left the figure's lips were like a spring breeze; quiet but powerful on the senses. "And until tonight, I never knew."

            "Iris." Zero barely whispered her name. It was all he could muster. She was there, standing before him, as real as he was. She wore no armor, instead dressed in casual jeans and a blue tee shirt Zero had seen her wear many a time in the past. He, too, was in similar garb, only his shirt was white. Of course, he realized—in here, there was no need for armor. He looked her over, from wispy brown-haired head to tennis-shoed toe, and found her to be everything he remembered…and more. She'd pulled him from darkness…she'd saved his life, after he had taken hers. Still, he didn't know how she felt, and so he was wholly unable to take action.

            "Zero." Her eyes were currently unreadable, wavering between sureness and uncertainty. She began to close the distance between them, resting one of her hands on his chest. Then, finally, she smiled, and as her lips curled upward Zero's reservations came crashing down. "I missed you," she said simply, resting against him.

            Zero said nothing, embracing her and pulling her even closer to him, resting his head against hers. There was no armor between them, nothing to interfere with the feeling of complete and utter closeness both so desired. Neither knew for certain how long they remained in each others arms, and neither cared, letting the action convey what words never could until Zero finally couldn't hold in any longer the feeling of guilt that still latched onto his heart. "I'm so sorry, Iris," he whispered, feeling his body shudder but forcing back any tears that may have tried to flow.

            "For what?" she whispered back, not breaking the embrace in the least but raising her head to look him in the eye. They were so close now…he could feel her breath brushing lightly against his face. "It's in the past."

            "What I did to you was unforgivable," he pressed on, unable to let himself off the hook even now.

            "I never blamed you," she said, not bothering to hide the water in her own eyes as she raised a hand from his waist to brush a lock of his golden hair away from his eyes, her fingers gliding along his cheek in a soothing gesture. "But the more you blamed yourself…the more you hated yourself, the more I hated _myself for losing control and making you…"_

            "It wasn't your fault," he shook his head firmly. "_None _of it was your fault."

            She smiled again, first sadly and then decisively. "But it doesn't matter. It's all behind us." Her eyes brimmed with a happiness he had never seen. "You took me back, Zero…that's all I care about now."

            "I took…what do you mean?" he asked, his mind finally giving way to confusion. His eyes wandered from her angel's face and scanned the area around them. "What is all this…?"

            She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "It's…hard to explain. It always is."

            He experienced a brief jolt of fear. "Am I…?"

            "No!" she said, shaking her head faster and laying her hand on his shoulder. "No, no, not at all! You have so much left ahead of you yet, Zero…so much more."

            There was no regret in her at all, but Zero couldn't ignore the regret in his own heart. "Sometimes I wonder if that's such a good thing."

            "I know. I've watched you ever since that day…you've lived a hard life, Zero, and you don't make it any easier for yourself."

            "I thought it was penance," he explained weakly. "But it never made me feel any better."

            "Nor I." Now sadness did register in her features. "I tried to reach out to you so many times, Zero…but you never let me in. I couldn't fight your nightmares, or stop your pain, or put an end to your guilt…I couldn't help you like I wanted to. You were so intent on hating yourself that you lost the ability to…to love. That was my only link to you, and you cut it.

            "But now," she went on, all remorse vanishing to be replaced by the joy and relief Zero had seen earlier, "now it's different. I don't know what suddenly changed in you to make you want to do the things you did, but I'm so glad it happened. I could reach you again…I could be with you."

            "And Gehirn couldn't handle that," Zero realized, knowing with a flood of relief that his declaration of strengths really was actually something more than quickly thought up banter.

            "No, he couldn't," Iris agreed with a triumphant smile. "The Virus will never take you, Zero…I'll make sure of that. In life I only took up arms once, and it was against you…" She lowered her head in what Zero feared was shame. "Now…I wanted to fight again…for you."

            "God, Iris," he consoled her, hugging her to him again and brushing his hands through her smooth, silky head of hair. "Thank you…" He didn't hide his tears this time. They were not for sorrow. "I hoped…what I was doing would make a difference…I wanted to prove to you that I wasn't…that I wasn't a…"

            "A what?" she asked with the laugh he so adored, looking up at him again. "A monster?" At the pained look in his eyes she smiled and spoke again, her airy British lilt music to his weary ears. "My dear…that's the biggest crock of bloody nonsense I've ever heard!"

            He absorbed it, his final fears dying entirely. Finally, he was able to smile at her without reservation, his eyes fully revealing the joy he felt being near her again, being able to see her, hold her, love her…everything he hadn't been able to do while she was with him before.

            "I love you, Iris," he finally said in words what had never been said before. "And I'll never stop."

            It was as though an additional weight had been removed from her soul. She all but crushed him, her arms clamped around his waist and her cheek pressed against his. "I love you all the more, Zero," she said for his ears only. "It's what brought me here tonight…and I swear I'll never leave you again."

            "How?" he asked as their heads turned, again face-to-face in the most literal sense. "How can I see you…?"

            "It's not as easy as I'd like it to be," she admitted, though she didn't seem at all daunted. "But don't fear sleep any longer. I can be with you then almost as we are now…your nightmares end here, Zero."

            A wild thrill shot through him, and he knew in that instant that the life he had until now loathed living had finally, finally taken a turn for the better. He had something to look forward to at last…and a whole new outlook on life. He felt like he had before Repliforce: confident, collected, and content, but now with the added benefit of this most treasured guardian angel. He was free…finally and irrevocably free. And what a great thing freedom was.

            His first act as a free man was to press his lips against Iris's in the kiss he'd never dreamed he'd have a chance to administer. To his delight she reciprocated, and in that moment nothing, _nothing_ was wrong in the world. Even the immediate future did not bother Zero—he knew he would soon have to part from her and return to the snowy Catskills, but it didn't matter. She was with him forever…all he needed to do was look for her, and he knew she would be there.

            They pulled apart with no reluctance, each more than satisfied with the torrents of emotions that had passed between them, smiling at each other with both lips and eyes. The bond had been made and cemented, and now it had only to be preserved—a task neither believed would prove to be a problem in the least. Zero asked another question, one of curiosity rather than worry, and Iris for once had no trouble giving an explanation.

            "All Reploids die, Iris…we claim to be immortal, and in a technical sense we are, but eventually something will happen to every Reploid and their end will be permanent. When that happens to me…"

            "…You will have nothing to fear," she finished for him, her smile aided by a knowing wink. "I know it seems impossible…we're supposedly soulless machines, but… There's no reason for life to end after death, Zero. Unless you let it. I know you won't." Their hands closed tightly around each other's. "I'll be waiting for you then, too…so long as you don't stray from this new path."

            "Never," he promised her, and both of them believed it. "I will never lose you again."

            "Thank you." She grinned at him and took a step backwards, though their fingers remained intertwined. Zero knew what that meant—it was time for him to return. But he wouldn't be going far, he knew. He didn't fear the separation…he just looked forward all the more to the next reunion. Iris squeezed his hand, calling his attention to her eyes. "The war is over, but much blood has been spilled, particularly in your own home." Like Zero, her smile contained no sadness at their parting. "They need you now."

            "And when I need you…?"

            Iris stepped towards him again, standing tall to kiss him. It was briefer than the last one, but packed the same punch. "Have you ever seen flowers grow here in December, Zero?" she asked him with the faintest hint of a promise.

            "I haven't," he confessed, watching her eyes twinkle and laughing despite himself. She brushed his hair from his face again, her response as beautiful a pledge as Zero had ever heard.

            "You will."

            Mega Man X could have wept for joy when Zero's eyes opened without any hint of madness in them. The sight X had seen had been horrific—a black oozing creature sinking into Zero like he was quicksand, and then the Hunter himself convulsing and screaming before slipping into unconsciousness. It had been the Virus, X knew, the Virus laid bare in its truest form, and it had attacked his friend while he couldn't defend himself. But then, out of nowhere, a burning flash of that same darkness had shot out from Zero's body like a teleportation signal. X had hoped feverishly that it had been the Virus fleeing his friend, and from the looks of things, it had been.

            Zero caught sight of his one-armed partner and smiled at the sight. No matter how busted up he may be, X always had a knack for sticking by his friends. Zero could now appreciate that more fully. He turned his head and realized that X had dragged him clear across the clearing, opting to put distance between Zero and what remained of Sigma…and indeed, not much remained of Sigma, probably thanks to an infuriated X when he had nothing to do but wait as Zero battled the demons inside his head. X had also recovered both Zero's saber and the most important thing here, the big box containing the Spare. For the moment, the nuclear threat had come to an end. His hearing began to return, and as it did he realized that X was yelling at him.

            "Zero! Zero! Are you all right? Zero!"

            "Yeah, yeah!" he waved his arms in protest, wincing at the pain radiating from his smashed chest. "Ugh…but would you happen to have anything for heartburn?"

            X sighed in relief. If the bastard was joking around, he was fine. "No, but I'm sure they have plenty back home." His eyes narrowed and he looked at Zero seriously. "Sigma's head was…well, it _wasn't_ anymore. What the hell did you use on him?"

            "I…" He chuckled, despite the pain. "I had a little help."

            "Help?" X frowned, but Zero would go no further. At that moment X's communicator started beeping, insultingly enough on the severed arm. X, feeling twelve kinds of fool, raised it to his lips and answered the call. "X here."

            "X," Delates' voice said in reply. "Bombs are set and we're all clear. What's your status?"

            "We're clear, Del," X said, his voice full of relief and finality.

            "'We'?"

            "The bombs are _set_?" Zero growled loudly enough to be heard. "Dammit Delates, you slacker, why the hell hasn't the whole damn building been totaled yet?"

            "Zero…" Delates laughed in dark humor. "Believe me, sir, I can't wait to bring it down…but two of our own are going with it."

            "Don't tell me," Zero whispered, his stomach sinking at the thought of his teammates dying.

            "Feldspar fell to Bit and Byte…and Lyon to Sigma."

            "All of those bastard Mavericks are dead now," X replied forcefully, feeling Zero's anger in his own heart. "They're avenged."

            "Partially." Delates' message was clear—the next Maverick he got a hold of was in for a world of hurt.

            "Take her down, Del," Zero said at length, grieving privately for his fallen comrades. "We'll see you back home." Transmission ended, and X lowered his arm.

            In the past, X and Zero had tended to stick around to watch Sigma's bases as they fell to pieces. That trend had ended the last time, when both had sped from Final Weapon without a single look back. X looked to his best friend with the silent question as he helped him to his feet, but Zero just shook his head no.

            "There are more important things to do," was his simple reasoning. He smiled at X with a resolution the owner of Fourth Armor hadn't seen in years. He nodded his head in agreement, and Zero looked out in the distance in the general direction of Megacity 5. He didn't know exactly what they'd find there, but he knew the night was far from over. He took one more breath of the cool Catskill air before turning to Mega Man X, the man who was supposed to be his archrival and was instead his most trusted friend, and nodded with the confidence of the seasoned teacher who'd taught the rookie Hunter X the basics of combat, all those years ago.

            "Let's go home."


	47. December Flowers

**Chapter 46: December Flowers**

            Signas sat down for the first time that night, letting out an exasperated breath as he turned his head to survey the scene behind him. It could only be called "progress" in the most general of terms, but at least it was something, and for that the Grand Commander was grateful. Hunter forces had fully reclaimed the building and had garrisoned what few Maverick prisoners they'd taken alive in the nearby Army complex, which was now semi-operational after the attack that had taken the whole place out of commission. Signas still had no communication with Alden Base, but he was told that would be the Mavericks' eventual destination. The Hunter general knew full well what would happen to the prisoners there, and even after what they had done it sent a shiver down his spine. Lambs led to the slaughter? More like wolves, Signas knew. But there was still something wrong about leading prisoners straight to their death without a trial. It wasn't that Signas minded so much the err in the justice system—he had evidence enough against these people, most of it decorating his blood-spattered armor—but he knew that other Reploids would be watching…and this wouldn't improve their views on humans very much.

            Signas had spent the last four hours coordinating the recovery effort, and the things he'd seen disgusted him. There were bodies everywhere, most of them Mavericks but too many were Hunters for the commander's liking. Included among the dead was Tiberius, an old friend that Signas somehow never thought could possibly die. Lifesaver was now in full charge of the overburdened, understaffed medical unit. The healer's last report had not done much to cheer Signas up—far too many Hunters were wounded far too badly. Army medics were being flown in to help and stabilized Hunters were being sent to the district hospital, but still with every passing minute another of Signas's soldiers slipped into the great beyond. He felt he now knew what hell was like.

            "It's not easy, is it?"

            Signas looked behind him to see Commander Zion trudging through the debris towards the cluster of rubble Signas was calling his base camp. Zion himself had forbade any of the commanders to enter the actual HQ until it had been completely swept by bomb squads, just in case Gravity Beetle had left them any more hidden surprises.

            "I've never been in an actual uprising," Signas admitted, smiling weakly. "It's trying…even an uprising as short as this one."

            "I joined early, in the first war," Zion said, sitting opposite Signas and stretching as long and hard as he could. "The first and fourth ones were the worst, if you want my opinion. Picture this scene right here, only everywhere. Sigma hasn't always confined himself to one city. While the Repliforce ravaged mainly one area, other Repliforce bases worldwide and Maverick camps as well came to life. We had to shut them down while X and Zero led the war against the big boys."

            "I can only imagine." Signas closed his eyes and let the cold wind caress his weary face. It seemed ridiculously sinful to relax while others under his command scrambled to restore order and save lives, but for that one brief moment in time Signas couldn't care less. It was over, he told himself. It was finally over, and all that was left now was to rebuild. He could handle that.

            "There's a Caligula at four o'clock," Zion announced, and Signas looked in the proper direction.

            "Tired already, boys?" the intelligence officer said as he ambled into the little camp. Unlike pretty much everyone else Signas had seen that night, Cal was the only one who didn't look like he was about to drop dead from exhaustion. "All live Mavericks have been subdued and the Army choppers have arrived to…eh…extradite them. The same thing goes for the dead ones." At Signas's raised eyebrow Caligula just shrugged. "I think they recycle them, or something. Crude, but what are you gonna do?"

            "The System really sends the wrong message to its Reploids," Signas said with a scowl.

            "Worry about that later," Zion advised, stretching again. "For now, let's worry about how to best pull ourselves out of this big stinking mess. I expect there's going to be a lot of leads to follow after we get back on our feet?"

            "We've already gotten some information that links the Gold Serpent to both the attacks on Signas and Zero in Sub-City 3 and the shutdown at Alden Base," Caligula affirmed. "We don't know what else that bastard may be responsible for, but I've tipped off Army Intel and they're redoubling their police work. We also got in touch with Gate, and he's on his way here now. He didn't sound too happy, though. Think something went wrong?"

            "Of course something went wrong," Signas said with another scowl. "That seems to be par for the course."

            "You have no idea," Zion agreed, smiling without much humor.

            They of course were avoiding the one question that they all wanted answered: what of the Seraph Castle team? How had they fared? Zion hadn't received a single communication from X since they parted ways in the Catskills. Somehow, Zion couldn't even consider the possibility that X and Zero had died, but he did worry about the soldiers X had taken with him. He didn't know too much about the Maverick kingpins themselves, but Zion knew there had to have been a few surprises inside the Maverick stronghold. How had his comrades fared?

            As it turned out, this time Zion's questions would be answered.

            Six beams of light streaked down from a sky dusty with windswept debris. Zion, Signas and Caligula all snapped upright at once, watching the beams touch down and solidify into Reploid forms. Zion's memory told him there should have been two additional Hunters warping back, and already a knot formed in his stomach.

            It tightened when he saw the sorry condition of the six survivors.

            Delates and Acrystos supported a battered Zero, his chest plate crushed in and his body riddled with a number of other wounds. Behind them, Tyclammel helped an exhausted Cort along while toting a heavy black case. The only one walking alone was Mega Man X himself, though if anything he was in just as bad of shape as Zero was. The Azure Hunter, azure once more in the absence of his Fourth Armor, carried his own severed arm in the one still attached. X also had clearly been on the receiving end of many more attacks. Somehow, though, Zion thought incredulously, the blue bastard had managed to survive it all again.

            "Signas…Zion," X said in greeting, his face bearing the weary yet victorious look it always did upon the end of a Maverick uprising. But like the crew at the HQ, X's team was worrying, too. "How bad is it?"

            "It…could be worse," Signas said after a glance at Zion, while in the background Caligula contacted Lifesaver and told him to haul ass. "The airship smashed half the base to hell before we took it down. Then the Mavericks occupied it."

            "They _what_?" Tyclammel said in disbelief, Cort glancing up also.

            "The Brothers Beetle," Zion explained dryly. "Gravity B. and Boomer K. Grav scattered mines every which way, but we just deactivated the last of them."

            "You sure?" Zero asked weakly, his breathing still heavy.

            "As sure as we can be," Zion offered with the slightest of shrugs. "That's why we're treating most of the wounded outside. It's dangerous, I know, but right now we just don't know what's _more _dangerous."

            "The Mavericks?" Acrystos pressed, gesturing towards the HQ.

            "Defeated," was all Zion would say.

            "Your turn," Signas finally broke in. "What happened back there?"

            X gave himself a second to compose himself, noting Zero's sudden intake of breath. But as soon as he started talking his comrade relaxed. "All Mavericks were either dispersed or destroyed."

            "The leaders?"

            "The minor ones, or Sigma?" X had to smile at their reactions. "Of course, it was Sigma. He let us kill him in the quarry specifically so our guard would drop."

            "Brutal trick," Zion grumbled.

            "Worked, too," Caligula observed mercilessly.

            "Sigma is gone, in any case," X announced, taking a seat on a big piece of apartment. He winced at the continuing pain in his sparking shoulder socket, but forced himself to stay focused. "As are his generals. Zero escaped his confines and we met up after destroying Gredam and his crew." X was amazed at how easy it was to utter so giant a lie with a face so perfectly straight. "From there we eliminated Sigma and his Marauder ride armor."

            "So that's where that damn thing went," the intelligence chief breathed. "How in the world did you…?"

            "Lots of Hail Marys," Zero replied glibly.

            "Don't forget this," Tyclammel said as he inched the black box towards the commanders.

            "What's this…?" Signas asked, feeling something ominous about the object.

            "That would be a warhead," Zero explained. "Sigma hoped to get away with it and threaten us with random nuclear chaos. Fortunately I beaned him with a snowball before he could get away."

            "While all this was going on," X picked up, "Delates and company were setting bombs on the base foundation."

            "Seraph Castle is no more," Tyclammel said, grinning absently, "thanks to us."

            "Thanks to Lyon, mostly," Delates said in a low voice.

            Signas caught the hint. "Casualties…?"

            "Lyon and Feldspar were killed," Delates said before anyone else could speak, though in that same tone of voice. "Both were past hope of revival."

            There was a heavy silence after that, only broken when X asked a question of equal solemnity. "How many lost on this end?"

            A soft, sad laugh escaped Signas's lips. "I'll tell you when they stop dying." The look that flashed through his eyes was one that X knew well. He made a note to speak to the commander later.

            "Jesus Christ, you guys," a haggard new voice exclaimed from behind the clustered soldiers and officers. They made way for Lifesaver, Dr. Ledyard and Dr. Carlton. "I was kind of hoping you all would have taken care of yourselves."

            "Man, am I glad to see them white hats," Zero grinned, while X got shakily to his feet.

            "We'll talk later," Signas said with a nod at Lifesaver. "For now, get these people to the district hospital. That's where we're sending the worst of our wounded," he explained.

            "Hope you like the weather tonight," Lifesaver said blandly to his new charges. "You get to take a sky-ride through it."

            "I've seen worse weather in December," Zero observed as they began their shaky trek to the waiting hovercopters. "You just have to know what to look for."

            "And just what are we looking for?" X asked him quietly. Zero just smiled.

            Delates was not wounded badly enough to require immediate medical attention. Acrystos insisted that she was in the same boat, but the damage the Android had inflicted upon her back said otherwise. Dr. Carlton picked up the spinal distortion immediately and had Acrystos loaded onto one of the two hovercopters waiting to exfiltrate the wounded.

            Delates followed them, not intending to board but feeling it necessary to at least accompany his comrades. He saw Zero lying on a stretcher, and he was pretty sure his wasted commander was fast asleep even before Lifesaver finished securing his restraints. X wasn't quite as exhausted, though the rigors of the night had been catching up to him quickly. He clutched absently at his throbbing stump of an arm while staring distantly at the sky. Cort and Acrystos entered the other chopper, the one Delates stood just outside of. Cort just flashed his friend a thumbs up and a trademark smile, while Acrystos winced as Dr. Carlton fastened her in place. "What will you do?" she called to Delates over the sound of the engines staring up.

            "I've got people to find," was his simple response.

            A frown of uncertainty appeared on her face, but she pushed it aside. "If you see him…"

            "He'll see you," Delates promised, knowing of whom she spoke. Acrystos allowed this to satisfy her and tried to relax as the hovercopters rose from the charred earth, taking their occupants someplace far safer. 

Once they had vanished into the night sky Delates turned to Tyclammel, who clapped him firmly on the shoulder. "Ya done good."

            "Did I?"

            The orange Reploid sighed. "Feldspar fell when X was around. Even _he _couldn't stop it from happening. And it's not like any of us could have done any better against Sigma than we did. Lyon made the most of things, just like any of us would have. Just like _you _would have."

            The emerald acting commander absorbed this, vowing yet again to put the matter out of mind and hoping this time it worked. "Thanks." He clapped Tyclammel's shoulder in turn. "Care for a stroll?"

            Tyclammel shrugged and they started into the larger gaggle of Hunters, most of whom were still bustling about securing the ruined HQ. The whole scene was one big mess, but at least the Hunters themselves were more organized than they had been hours earlier. Lifesaver, Carlton and Ledyard had returned to the fray, performing field medic work with the aid of the rest of the hospital staff and recently arrived Army medics. Zegmann and Douglas were in charge of the excavation going on at the Buzzbomb impact point, putting their less destructive machines to good use. Zion's Unit 20 stood guard around the HQ perimeter, while Archer's Unit 5 reinforced the HQ itself. Mason's Unit 3 was gone, having left to search the crashed _Gallagher _for any remaining threats. Alan Seitz and the rest of the Invisible Men were making themselves quite visible, skittering about the base and collecting information from every possible venue. Occasionally Caligula would join them, but he never stayed in one place long.

            Those with minor wounds clustered in a camp of sorts while the field medics took care of them. They would eventually be transported to the district hospital, though they were certainly in competent hands at the moment. The amount of medics and equipment present guaranteed the kind of service equal at least to what could be had in the Hunter medical ward, while it had still been functional.

            It was to this area that Delates and Tyclammel were drawn, searching for friends among the sea of unfortunate faces. It was not one of these that called out to them, however, but rather one from behind.

            "Del! Ty! Thank Christ you're still alive!"  
            "Castle," Delates said, turning to shake the guerilla's hand. "Been looking for you."

            "Looks about as bad here as it was back there," Tyclammel observed.

            "If that's the case then I'm afraid to ask about the casualties," Castle replied uneasily. "Even though I still will."

            "Your girlfriend's fine," Delates assured him. "At least, she will be. Her back got a little messed up, but it's nothing the docs can't fix. Took two casualties, though."

            "Shit." Castle wiped some sweat from his brow. "We got plenty of deaders here, but most of 'em were the newer ones we hadn't had time to train. Shadin from X's unit is messed up really bad, and Stromm from my group bit the bullet."

            "God damn, could this get any worse?" Tyclammel exhaled slowly, letting his head loll back.

            "It can," Castle declared, in a defeated tone. He clenched and unclenched his fists, giving Delates the news he needed to hear. "The Commander…Damia, she's…"

            "Don't tell me," Delates whispered, feeling his insides crash.

            "She's alive," Castle said quickly. "I'm not sure how good a thing that is, though."

            "God, man, what happened?"

            "Boomer Kuwangner happened." The anger was evident in both Castle's eyes and voice. "Damia was part of a group including Tiberius and Dr. Cain that was trapped inside the base when the Mavericks took over. Kuwangner and another Maverick subdued her and tortured her nearly to death, just for the simple fun of it. Dantz and I got her out just in time."

            "And Kuwangner?" Delates managed, his throat feeling like sandpaper.

            "He's dead now," Castle replied, very simply.

            Delates ran his hands up across his face and over his helmet, forcing the feeling of dread to subside long enough for him to think straight. "The hospital?"

            Castle nodded. "That'd be why I was looking for you. Come along too, Tyclammel. They've got regular transports waiting nearby."

            "What about the other Maverick?" Tyclammel asked as they began to walk. "You said there was another Maverick with Kuwangner. What happened to him?"

            "A few of the prisoners mentioned a 'Doc Volvar', who we're assuming is the Maverick in question." Castle shook his head. "He vanished before we could apprehend him, and his body has yet to be found on the scene."

            Delates was only partially aware of the conversation, walking in a daze. He'd already lost Sol, Katana, Feldspar and Lyon to this blasted uprising. If he lost Damia of all people, so damn soon after everything else… He turned his head towards Castle. "How bad is she?"

            The guerilla winced. "I don't think you want to know the details—"

            "I do."

            Castle closed his eyes, as though willing the sight out of mind. "It was just…bad. Lifesaver did what he could to stop internal bleeding while the hovercopters came. Dantz and I stayed with her till they flew her off, but even under the tranks I think she still felt it. She tried talking once or twice…she never got anything coherent out."

            Delates couldn't decide whether rage or fear was the more powerful of his emotions as he sat down in the Army road transport. If Damia died he knew it'd be too much for him. And who was this Doc Volvar to still be alive? Delates swore then and there that if the bastard was still alive, he would be the one to kill him, despite the fact that all of Unit 8 would be vying for that opportunity.

            Why, he wondered as the transport stared up, was the aftermath always worse than the war itself? After all their work stopping those who would do evil, why were they doomed only to more suffering? Delates finally felt he understood the old saying. War was indeed hell, just not for the reasons Delates had first imagined.

            Another Hunter in particular was trying to claw his way out of that hell.

            Vulcan knelt at the feet of a Reploid whose leg had been torn by a saber chop. Rykov did most of the work, having proven an adequate medic when he followed Lifesaver's instructions. With the arrival of Army medics, their help was no longer needed, and planned to take a breather after they finished with this Hunter.

            The gash was fairly nasty, and had severed a minor vein that Rykov was almost done putting together. Then it was a matter of some medical team applying new skin to cover the gash. Vulcan watched, though his vision was not focused on anything in particular. His mind had crashed, slowly but surely. Everything that he had seen and done in the past few days was catching up to him, and it was more than he had ever bargained for. For this reason he'd been keeping himself occupied helping Rykov or performing some minor task Archer or Hawkins needed done, but even this wasn't serving to keep his mind busy anymore.

            Unwilling to dwell on the battles, he dwelt instead on his friends. He and Rykov hadn't been damaged very badly—physically, anyway—but the others hadn't been so fortunate. Hawkins, his squad leader, had gashes all over him from trying to deal with that monster, Geddon. He hadn't seen Alec since the pilot had saved his ass in the generator room. If it hadn't been for Alec leading the air unit in on foot, Tiberius's effort to keep the wounded safe from Geddon would have been all for naught.

            That left the more obscure friends. Nightchaser was one person Vulcan had never expected to be able to call a friend, and he still didn't know if he could. But if the stories were true, Chase had come through every time he'd been needed, keeping Vulcan's other friends alive, and an unpleasant knot in the silver Hunter's stomach reminded him that he'd probably owe Chase a drink for that. Then there was the traitor. He still could not believe that Scythe had been a Maverick. While he hadn't known the golden Reploid all that well, Alec had, and the pilot, famous for venting his opinions of people long and loud, had never once dropped a hint of suspicion. He'd not seen Scythe since they'd departed from the HQ. It had only been a little under two days, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Again, however, if the stories were true Scythe had attacked Krysta, and he deserved what Chase had done to him.    

            Krysta…she occupied most of his mind. He wasn't quite sure how to categorize his feelings for her. Rykov would be quick to accuse him of love, but he didn't know enough about that term to dare to use it. What he knew was, they'd always been there for each other as long as they'd known each other. Like Rykov, he knew he could trust her completely, but unlike Rykov it just seemed like something more with her. What Vulcan really wanted was for Krysta to recover, and for things to go back to normal as quickly as possible. Half his motivation for this was that he hated thinking that his friend was suffering. The other half was that he simply needed some semblance of normalcy. But normalcy, it seemed, may be forever denied to him.

            It was a simple accident on Rykov's part—he applied too much pressure on the vein and a sharp stream of Reploid blood shot out. Rykov quickly corrected his mistake and fixed the vein and the wounded Reploid, unresponsive to pain thanks to the tranks he'd been given, merely jumped slightly at the sight. Vulcan, however, caught the stream full in the face.

            The young Hunter reeled backwards, losing his balance and falling on his hindquarters, clawing at his face as though it were being seared away by acid. The blood ran through his fingers, it mottled his hair, it dribbled down his neck. Images automatically and ruthlessly flooded Vulcan's mind, images of friends dying, of blood pouring, and worst of all a tank driving over a rookie Hunter no older than Vulcan. The next thing he knew Vulcan had fallen again into the soupy puddle of scrap and coolant that had been the Hunter Derringer, the tanker Tetra preparing his demise while Vulcan peeled a strip of flesh from the back of his neck, flesh that had been Derringer's face. He screamed and pushed himself away, trying to distance himself from the blood, the death, and above all the horror.

            "Shit," Rykov swore as vehemently as he could, rushing to where Vulcan lay. "God damn it, Vulc, I'm _sorry_…" He took a towel he'd been carrying with him and used it to clean the blood off his writhing friend's face. "Snap out of it, man!" he ordered, taking Vulcan by the silver shoulders and shaking him firmly. "_Look_ at me!"

            Vulcan did, and the world slowly slid back into focus, though the horror was still fresh in his mind. He could even still feel the leathery face clinging to his neck. With a pitiful moan the Hunter fell onto his side, exhausted physically and emotionally, while a bemused Rykov tried to figure out how the hell to help him.

            Ever since joining the Hunters, Vulcan's life had taken one sharp turn after another. It had started out innocently enough. Becoming a Hunter was something more and more Reploids were doing, and Vulcan had seen it almost as a new form of law enforcement. Sigma's last grand scheme had been so huge, so catastrophic, and still it had failed. This, the world had thought, and Vulcan with them, had to be the last of the uprisings. What could come after so deadly a thing as Final Weapon? What unit could match the strength and capabilities of the Repliforce? The Hunters had triumphed over the ultimate evil, and now there was a future to build. Vulcan had supposed he would help build it, preserving order while a new world took form.

            But he had quickly learned that being a Hunter was much more akin to being a soldier than it was a policeman. On that first mission to destroy Sigma in the quarry, Vulcan had been singled out because of his skill at sniping and his performance in the weapons match. He'd seen Sigma die, though he still didn't know who'd actually pulled the trigger. Credit for that had fallen on him nonetheless, and he quickly became revered and respected for abilities he couldn't possibly have possessed, being so fresh out of training. For a time he'd allowed himself to believe he just might have the right stuff, until that train mission when the Maverick swordswoman had put him in his place. He'd had no business being there. His reputation had preceded him and Zero had wanted to see how far he could go, and as a result he'd almost died, saved only the Hunter Feldspar, who Vulcan had learned was now dead himself.

            Then came the preparations for a full-scale attack on Seraph Castle. Vulcan had trained long and hard to be ready for the battles to come, and like most of his comrades he looked forward to what lay ahead. He'd never expected to have to turn full around as soon as they'd reached their destination, chasing a Maverick airship armed with nuclear weapons back to their home. The shock of learning the enemy had nukes was still clear in his mind. Archer had informed the troops on the way back as they froze in the Catskill chill, and they'd arrived exhausted and sickly to behold their city and home in flames. Fortunately they'd been able to prevail against the enemy, but only after battles that were like nothing Vulcan had ever expected. First he'd been thrust in the middle of chaos, unable to think consciously at all, doing nothing except swing his sword or fire his cannon. Then he'd watched as a tank demolished many of his comrades, and then been forced to experience that horrifying moment when…

            But he wouldn't remind himself, not anymore. Here he was now, not at all the gifted soldier who'd fought with elites, but a broken young man unable to let go of war. Indeed, he'd only known solace after the tank incident when he'd been fighting in the generator room. Fighting was what his body and mind knew how to do best, it seemed, but in the absence of combat the mind turned its efforts against the body, and vice versa. Rykov half-suspected something of this nature but couldn't put it into words, and even if he could he would not known any way at all to help his friend.

            "Why did we do it…?" Vulcan finally asked, choking on something sour—some of the blood had seeped through his lips.

            "What do you mean?" Rykov said coolly, sitting Vulcan up straight and kneeling next to him.

            "Why'd we do it?" Vulcan's head rolled back and he looked vacantly at his best friend. "Why the hell did we do it?"

            Rykov nodded very slowly, beginning to understand. "Does it matter why we did this? Why we became Hunters? Why we fought?"

            "Of course it matters…it has to matter."

            "Not at all. What matters is, we did it, and that's all. We fought, and people who would have died lived." Though Rykov was about Vulcan's age, he still felt like some seasoned old warrior dispensing tried and true advice, when in fact he was pulling everything out of his ass. He hoped it didn't stink.

            Vulcan's response eased Rykov's worries. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, though brokenly. "And what do we do now?"

            "Now?" Rykov blinked. "Now it's back to how it used to be. Now we can live normally."

            "Live normally…" A shudder went through Vulcan's body at the thought of his former way of life. Before it had been full of peace and allowed far more freedom than it had during a Red Climate, but now he thought of it with dread. He would have his friends with him, but he knew already they would not be ample distraction. Things would be too _routine_. Nothing would be there to take his mind fully off everything that had recently transpired, unless he trained all day every day, which he knew was not an option.

            He looked seriously at Rykov, the fear plain in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do that."

            Rykov bowed his head to hide his worried expression. It was the last thing he'd wanted to hear. Vulcan's mind had been scarred, and Rykov didn't know if the scars would go away. If they didn't, then the silver Hunter's life might well be ruined.

            It was too much to dwell on at once, too dreary for an occasion that should have been much more exuberant. Twice now they'd destroyed the Maverick King and twice now they'd been more depressed after the battle than they'd been before it. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Rykov stood and got Vulcan to his feet, his eyes scanning the area and settling on the Army transports waiting for use. "Let's check the hospital," he said, guiding Vulcan in the direction of the transports. "They don't need us here anymore, and they should be done working on Krysta by now."

            The thought of seeing Krysta cleared away some of the fog in Vulcan's mind. He realized then why he held her in such high regard—she served as an anchor of sorts, keeping his mind and emotions focused on something tangible while preventing thoughts of the past from resurfacing. When he'd nursed her after the battle in the HQ, he'd felt the same kind of peace he'd felt fighting. In a way, she reassured him that he was good for something besides killing.

            "Let's go," Vulcan agreed, not looking back at the scene behind him. Even a hospital, another scene of pain, seemed better than this place. Rykov nodded and quickened the pace, hoping to catch the next transport out, and hoping further that the trip did his friend some good. If not, he didn't know what else to do.

            Signas entered the Grand Hall of Maverick Hunter Headquarters slower than he ever had before, marveling at how the impressive structure he'd recently begun to call home had been ruined by the enemy attack. The structural damage was far more extensive than had been anticipated, but the building's central sector had been deemed safe. Signas approached this area now, touring the bloodstained halls of his command post as he went. His frown grew deeper with every step, and with every breath he damned the Mavericks worse than before. Clearly, this batch had been the most evil of them all. Mavericks had always been brutal, but this level seemed to exceed all others, despite the fact that most of the damage was confined to a remarkably small space. He'd seen what was left of Tiberius. He'd beheld Damia's ruined form and had read the medical estimates of what had happened to her. He could still see, when outside, fire burning from the small part of the city unfortunate enough to be underneath the Buzzbomb blast that had taken out _Icarus_. The Maverick airship, even deactivated, was yet a source of fear. What if there was some other, even dastardlier weapon inside that thing? Mason had yet to report back, so all Signas could do was worry.

            Unlike some others, however, he at least had enough on his plate to keep his mind busy, though he didn't count this as a blessing in any way shape or form. Currently he was to meet a guest in his office, ignoring Zion's warning to avoid the interior of the base. As far as Signas was concerned, they had taken the fort, and now it was up to them to fix what had been broken, and that started by having enough guts to walk inside your own house.

            The guest in question raised his head and bowed it again in recognition of Signas' presence when the Hunter general entered the room. He was not sitting, and instead leaned against the wall nearest Signas' desk. The general did not sit either, merely closing the door and nodding in his guest's direction, returning the greeting. Signas barely recognized his acquaintance in his dark blue armor without the white lab coat that so frequently went along with it. "You had no problems getting here?" Signas asked.

            "Other than stomaching what I saw, no." Gate straightened up and offered a tired smile to the Hunter. "Your intelligence officer wanted results, so here I am to give them."

            "It really wasn't necessary to come so soon," Signas sighed, resting his hands on the back of a chair. Gate leaned back against the wall, one arm across his chest and the other hanging limp at his side. There was a sort of uneasiness about him that Signas detected at once, though he assumed it had to do with the circumstances surrounding Megacity 5. "But no sense in making you come back, eh?"

            "No," Gate smiled thinly, looking up at the general. "I imagine the UNDINE site will concern you the most. Investigators Wolfang, Heatnix and Scarabich secured and destroyed all remaining information of a sensitive nature, though there was not much left. The Mavericks undoubtedly have most of your codes in their possession, which explains how they were able to learn of your trip to Sub-City 3 and plot their ambush. I recommend completely restructuring your computer security."

            Signas nodded glumly—here was yet another task to be completed, and restructuring the whole computer security network would prove just as monstrous a task as rebuilding the HQ. "What of the Maverick complex in Brazil?"

            "Of course, Brazil…" There was hollowness in Gate's voice, and it caught the other Reploid's attention immediately. "Commander Yammark and his troops successfully neutralized the base and its commander, Split Mushroom. They apprehended several mercenaries, including one 'Ephemeron' who claims to be in league with someone calling himself 'the Breaker'. There's no sign of this Breaker, however."

            "That wouldn't upset you to the point that you are, Gate," Signas said directly. "What else happened?"

            The international scientist took an uneasy breath. "Commander Yammark did not survive the battle. His flight program failed and he crashed."

            "Damn," Signas observed, somewhat lamely, he thought. He didn't know how close Gate was to his individual agents, but Yammark's death seemed to be hitting him hard. Unless there was something else…? "I know it's hard. We lost a lot here tonight ourselves."

            "No, no, it's not that," Gate said, waving it off, somewhat to Signas' surprise. "Yammark's subordinates, Gomez and Rodriguez, reported that while his body was in shambles, his head and main body parts were perfectly salvageable. There would be virtually no damage done to his mind if he were reactivated."

            Signas frowned. "Isn't that a good thing, then?"

            Gate laughed, and it was cold and mirthless. "It would be, indeed, were he to be allowed that opportunity."

            There was an edge in the room now, an edge that had poured off Gate's voice like water from a fountain. Signas actually found himself on guard. "What do you mean…?"

            Gate looked at him again, and this time his expression wasn't exactly one of harshness, but one of uncertainty. "I think, Signas…that I am being targeted."

            "Targeted?" Signas blinked. "By who?"

            "I don't know." Gate shook his head and eased himself off the wall. He paced the room slowly, seemingly oblivious to everything in it. "Yammark's body vanished from the scene before Gomez and Rodriguez could collect it. I don't know where he's been taken or if he's still salvageable, but all my attempts to bring him back here have been in vain."

            "Sabotage?"

            "More than you know." Gate's eyes narrowed as he moved. "I designed Yammark's flight program myself. I know how to program a damn aeronautic unit. The only way it could have failed is if someone had set it up to do so." Gate looked up. "Recently, I've been cited by some of the more conservative elements in both my scientific community and various governments. People seem to believe some of my robots are too powerful."

            "That's garbage," Signas growled. "Just because a Reploid has a few more abilities than—"

            "Yes, but try telling _them _that." Gate let something akin to a hiss escape his lips. "Rainy Turtloid, an Investigator designed to explore and cure the polluted areas, has come under fire due to the powers I've imbued him with. Metal Shark Player has drawn horrible fire for his work reanimating old machines, as though human factories don't do the same on a regular basis. Someone's trying to undermine me, Signas, as though I've done something that merits undermining." The scientist resisted the urge to spit.

            Signas absorbed this. Half of him was not surprised. To many, Gate was the new form of Doctor Doppler, both the good parts and the bad. Gate's contributions towards science were many and far reaching, but his growing influence rubbed many the wrong way. If someone saw his Investigators as a threat, neutralizing them made perfect sense. Signas, however, given his present feelings towards treatment of Reploids, was much more inclined to sympathize with Gate.

            "I will have Caligula look into this," he promised, standing straight. "We are in your debt, and we will repay that debt as best we can."

            Gate straightened also, and at least part of his burden seemed removed. "And for that, I thank you."

            Before more could be said, the office door opened and Alia strolled in absently, carrying with her a datapad that likely contained a message for Signas' eyes only. She stopped dead in her tracks when she realized she was interrupting something. "I'm sorry, sir, I should have knocked…"

            "I was on my way out anyway," Gate said quickly, moving to shake Signas' hand. "My contacts aren't limited strictly to the scientific community. I imagine you will want to investigate these events…I'll keep in touch." He took his leave, offering Alia only a crisp nod as he passed. This Signas noted. Alia's job as a Hunter followed a short career as a field scientist, during which time Gate had been a colleague of hers. At their last meeting, in Sub-City 3, Gate had seemed to consider Alia one of his friends, but this gesture—and Alia's badly concealed guilty reaction—seemed to hint otherwise. Signas hated to think Alia might know something about Gate's situation, or may in some way be involved in it, but…she _did _keep in touch with her other former colleagues. If any of them were behind Yammark's abduction, then might Alia know something after all?

            It mattered little, Signas decided, admitting the dispatcher to his office and taking the pad. Inscribed were not one but two messages. The first was a message from Commander Mason of Unit 3. They had arrived at the airship's remains and after careful inspection had determined that the remaining weapons, while still potent, were in no danger of being accidentally or randomly activated. Without _Gallagher_'s power core online, the weapons would have no wake-up call. Mason and his troops were now on their way back to the Headquarters. The second message was from Commander Zegmann, informing Signas that his demolition team would be sent to aid the Army in disassembling the airship and securing what weapons were still usable before other less savory characters beat them to it.

            Signas knew full well who those characters were. Calls had flooded local police stations and other authorities concerning the staggering level of criminals making the most of the chaos, looting homes and businesses while the authorities were busy elsewhere. Given the field day the underworld was having, Signas half expected the Gold Serpent _was _behind all this in some way. But for the moment, all he could do was speculate.

            "How are you holding up, Alia?" he asked, regretting it quickly. Before she had been a dispatcher Alia had been a soldier. She could handle the rigors of combat.

            "I'll be fine," she assured him, still not quite over the embarrassment of barging in unannounced. "But we all have much to do yet. Zion wants to see you in the Grand Hall."

            "Probably another safety lecture," Signas said, attempting a smile as he followed Alia out the door.

            "The image is shattered," Alia said cryptically when they were halfway to the Hall.

            "What do you mean…?"

            "This is the most secure Hunter base in the world," Alia elaborated. "Doppler was the only one who attempted an invasion, and we drove him off. The image was that we were unstoppable." She shivered slightly. "Now that image is gone."

            "And you think people will be more inclined to act against us?" Signas smiled thinly. "Frankly, after seeing what's happened to these people, I invite them to try."

            "Even after what happened to _us_?"

            "There will always be casualties," Signas allowed. "But if the Mavericks have decided that they can now attack us without fear, we will have to do something to put them back in their place, will we not?"

            A slow smile crossed Alia's face. "Are you planning something?"

            "I am. It will be difficult, but if it works, and if I get the support I need, which I believe I will, nothing like…like _this,_" he waved his hand around the base, "will happen again."

            The dispatcher nodded, liking the sound of it. "The support will come easily. We trust your judgment, sir."

            That served to catch the general off guard. Trust…it was something Cain had always had, yet Signas had expected himself to have to work for a good long time to earn it. He felt like he'd failed here, but in hindsight he'd really done all he could. As Cain's assistant he'd not been calling the shots, though he'd definitely done his part. He'd made good with what he had despite Megacity sluggishness. In the streets of Sub-City 3 he'd fought well, which surprised him given that he was not exactly a combat model Reploid. His skill with a firearm was not to be denied, but he'd not expected himself to hold up so well psychologically in the direct face of the enemy. He supposed it had been a good learning experience.

            Then Cain had gone down before the base was attacked, and Signas had assumed full control. The evacuation had been fully supported by every officer advising him, and he knew now it had been the right choice. If they'd stayed in the base they would surely have been destroyed. That had almost happened anyway when Gredam's search party came for them, but by some miracle Chartreuse's people had pulled through in the nick of time. That was something else that bothered Signas. The Dragoons had pulled out almost immediately after driving Gredam off. Some had remained, but none could account for the whereabouts of their leader. Signas had not put a trace out for Chartreuse, though something told him he had better do so, despite his lack of a clear reason.

            So. He had won. It may not have been the textbook victory he'd come to expect of the Hunters, but it had been a win nonetheless. And now, unless Cain reestablished control over the Hunters—which, given recent conversations Signas and Cain had shared in private, was very unlikely—Signas was now the boss. He hoped very much that the other Hunters shared Alia's mindset. It would make things so much easier.

            Alia left him in the Grand Hall with Zion. "You called?"

            "I did," Unit 20's officer responded. "Base perimeter is about as secure as it's going to get and not a single threat has been reported, from Mavericks or criminals or anything else. Mason and Zegmann are dealing with the airship—"

            "So I hear."

            "—And Archer's keeping the peace inside the perimeter, with X's unit helping him out. The rest of our forces are running around in here, and they report an all clear."

            "So what you're saying is, everything's under control?"

            "I am." Zion allowed himself a smile. "Congratulations, sir, your war is over."

            "Our war," Signas corrected him, smiling also. "And may there be no more like it."

            There were some, however, for whom the war was still raging.

            "Someone needs to catch this bastard," Colonel Tony Jones, the commander of Alden Base, said in Conference Room 4 of Maverick Hunter Headquarters. "The longer he's on the loose, the more trouble he can cause."

            "Easy, sir." The second voice, calm and cautious compared to Jones' gruff and forward tone, belonged to Major Wallace Coleman, the same man who'd informed Commander Archer of the Buzzbomb threat in the Megacity junkyards. "As of yet, the evidence linking Kou Cao to these events is slim."

            "Bullshit!" Jones fairly spat. "That bastard stole the Marauder from _me_, I know how he works!"

            "And how is that?" Caligula asked coolly, leaning back against the table and typing notes on a datapad without once needing looking down to check his accuracy.

            "He always, _always_ has a man on the inside," Jones growled. "In my case it was Cassius. Damn me, but I never saw the bastard as a threat. He was a lifelong soldier. I don't know what the Serpent offered him, but he turned. He turned my base's defenses against us, which is why we couldn't come to help fight the airship off. I assume Cassius also had a lot to do with the Marauder theft."

            "And that Marauder showed up in Seraph Castle." Caligula nodded. "What of the second Marauder? You were making two, correct?"

            "Discontinued." Jones shook his head. "They won't let us continue, after what happened with the first one."

            "Good," Caligula said, ignoring the colonel's reaction.

            "Even so," Coleman protested, "why couldn't it have been Mavs that stole the Marauder?"

            "You think we let Reploids outside the army into the bases on a regular basis?" Jones said with a derisive snort. Caligula didn't react in any way, but the soldier still felt a sudden need to defend himself. "There ain't nothin' racist about it. It's just that Reploids are the only ones who go Maverick, so if they're not in the ranks, they don't get in. Humans helped Cassius steal Marauder. It had to be the Serpent or one of his cronies, because they're the only ones who humans'd work for."

            "We have some evidence of the Gold Serpent too," Caligula announced, much to Coleman's surprise. "Just before leaving via medivac, Zero mentioned the Serpent and linked him with another name." He told them.

            "Jesus," Jones breathed. "Kitao's aid?"

            "But we would have known," Coleman protested. "I mean, someone in that position…"

            "Just like you 'knew' about the Buzzbomb theft?" Caligula asked with a raised eyebrow. "As I recall, if it weren't for two of the junkyard workers we would never have known."

            "Nevertheless," Coleman recovered, "it seems impossible for him to control such a big network under our surveillance."

            "Criminals rarely work like those trained by the military," Caligula offered. "We're looking for patterns and obvious strategies. Chartreuse, if he is indeed the Serpent, would have known that and played on it to secure his secrecy. Plus, with that secrecy needing to be upheld, he'd delegate most of his underworld powers to his underlings so less could be traced to him personally."

            "I suppose…" Coleman looked as though he might be sick. Intelligence was his job, and if he had missed something as glaring as this… "Christ, do you know what we're talking about? One figure within our own damn ranks instigating a nuclear strike?"

            "Whoever said anything about the nukes?" Jones asked with a frown.

            "Chartreuse's position would make it easy for him to gain access to the information regarding the location of the buried Buzzbombs," Caligula explained. "If he's not the Serpent, he could easily have leaked the info to the real Serpent, or definitely to the Mavericks who ultimately used the weapons."

            "Oh." Jones' eyes narrowed. "Well then the bastard should at least be brought in for questioning."

            "It's doubtful that he returned to his unit, if he is in fact guilty," Coleman observed, running his hand through his hair. "Probably won't be long before whoever _is _the Serpent flees the System."

            "That's why the Army needs to move, and move fast." Caligula looked at both men carefully. "My people are quite obviously busy. We can scan the local scene, but most of our efforts will be put to stopping Mavericks who may think to take advantage of our downtime. I need you people to be after the Serpent on a global scale. If he did this, God knows what else he might have up his sleeve." He glanced at his watch. "Must go. I won't have much else for you until X and Zero snap out of it, but I'll send it when I get it."

            Coleman nodded. "I'll get our Intel guys mobilized. Hopefully someone will know how to best track this guy."

            "When dealing with the Serpent," Jones said grimly, "you'll need a lot more steel than you will hope."

            Thankfully, Caligula thought as he left the two Megacity officers behind, he had plenty of both.

            Alia felt the brief feeling of victory she'd experienced inside the base evaporate swiftly upon reentering the frosty outdoors. Thin layers of fresh snow carpeted the earth, marred by footsteps of human and Reploid making and in some worse cases, blood. The war may be over, but there were still battles being fought. Many of her comrades still struggled against fate for the right to breathe, while still others fought despite their exhaustion to assist the commanders in coordinating their efforts.

            Alia herself wanted nothing more than to flop down in the snow and sleep for a month. While she would not allow herself to do this—even though she had no current task—she did wander somewhat distantly about the HQ grounds, eventually finding her way to an abandoned rim of what used to be the pristine gardens Zero had so enjoyed staring at. The Buzzbomb had not demolished the entire area, but she was positive that it would never regain its former beauty. All the plants were long since dead, doomed by the icy breath of winter, but Alia found peace here nonetheless, as did most every Hunter who ever ventured into the area.

            From here she could and did turn to see the whole of the recovery effort playing out behind her. She saw less activity than usual, and allowed herself to believe that since there was less to be done she had an excuse for taking a breather here. The major reason she'd worked so long was because while the battles had been raging, she'd wanted nothing more than to take part in them. She felt that she'd failed her unit in the 12th district quarry, being taken out before she even had a chance to draw her weapon. She'd needed the help of a rookie, Krysta, to keep alive that night, and even afterwards her frame was too badly damaged to support a combat lifestyle, relegating her to dispatch duty. She'd done her part holding Gredam at bay, but it just didn't seem like enough to her, and so she'd done absolutely everything in her power to aid in the aftermath.

            The end result was, of course, exhaustion, but more than that there was a feeling of sadness. This had been her home, and now it would never be the same, despite Signas' words. She'd been moved around as long as she could remember, originally designed as a field technician and scientist. She'd never truly felt at home in that profession, however, and had come to the Hunters out of an inability to adapt to civilian life. Her covert skills won her into X's unit of all units, and for the first time she'd felt like she belonged somewhere. Now, though, this place was forever damaged. She wondered if it would ever seem whole again.

            Then she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She very nearly dismissed it as a hallucination, but turned her head to investigate for lack of anything better to do. Then she was _sure _that she was hallucinating. She walked very slowly towards a former flower patch, covered now by a very thin layer of snow, and knelt down to get a closer look at this impossibility.

            The impossibility in question was a live iris flower, its violet petals contrasting sharply with the world of white surrounding it. Alia stroked a finger down the flower's length to reassure herself that the image was real, feeling everything from the petals to the cold ground the flower rose from. It was just simply impossible, she told herself, for something like this to be growing in the freezing temperatures of December, and even more impossible for it not to have died during the wicked blizzard that had besieged Megacity 5 for nearly two days. Alia for the life of her couldn't remember any flowers here before the Hunters had left for Seraph Castle, and she was pretty sure she'd have noticed something like this earlier if it had been there.

            Then where had it come from? The earth was the most obvious answer but in this case it made _too _much sense. It had to be a joke, she told herself, or some feeble attempt at symbolizing new life or something. She almost unconsciously took hold of the stem and pulled very gently upwards, as though to uproot the faux life form.

            She stopped as though slapped when the roots caught and the flower resisted.

            "Real," she whispered despite herself, blinking the snowflakes from her eyes. It was like a flower from the springtime. She released the flower, feeling as though uprooting it would be blasphemy of some sort, and stood. For a while she stared the miracle down, as though daring itself to reveal some duplicity, but nothing changed. It withered not despite the cold, sustaining itself even though all nearby groundwater was frozen.

            A shiver rose up Alia's spine, but it did not discomfort her, because with it rose her mood. If a flower could rise from the barren earth in this time of barren spirits…

            …Then perhaps there was nothing to worry about, after all.

            Signas had a plan. He was going to do something, and whatever it was, whatever consequences it would bring, Alia knew everything would be worth it. The Hunters were changing, but the change would be for the better. X, Zero and everyone else in the hospitals would wake up good as new. If something as fragile as an iris could survive the test of time, so could they.

            The dispatcher left the garden with a smile on her face. It was a tired smile, but it would not go away. Even the winter wind on her face felt cool rather than cold. A new day was fast approaching. It was an opportunity for a fresh start, and Alia would be damned if she didn't take it.

            Outside the grounds of the Hunter Headquarters, not everyone shared Alia's positive viewpoint.

            "Thank you, General," the colonel in charge of the control room said boldly, "but you really have done all you can. You need to rest."

            "Rest?" General Virdelko said, his dead eyes staring clear through the colonel. "Rest now? After this?" He blinked, regaining control of himself. He'd just proven the colonel right, and he wanted to lash out in anger at that fact. Instead he just turned and left the room, saying nothing as he passed the assembled soldiers who saluted as he passed. Worst of all were the Reploid soldiers who stood stiff in respect as he approached. Why did they salute him, Virdelko wondered. What had he done besides make life harder for them? Why did the humans even salute him? He'd failed them. He'd surrendered to fear years ago and now his city burned with nuclear fire because of it. It was, he knew, all his fault.

            He often said that he knew nothing about what really happened during Terrornova's official lifetime—he had always hidden behind that excuse. But he had known, deep down. Kitao had been a famous racist with no respect for the Reploids as a people, and Virdelko hadn't been much better. Even now Klementi Illich was no saint, though he had at least come to recognize their legitimacy as a race. But still he opposed Reploid rights out of fear, fear that more power would lead to more Mavericks, and now, only _now _did he realize that the exact opposite was true—more restriction brewed much more trouble.

            He'd not conceived of Terrornova but he had authorized it. That meant anything they'd done, anyone they'd killed, all of it came back ultimately to him. And then the assassins themselves had been eliminated, something Virdelko had at the time accepted as collateral damage. With Sigma on the loose, he had been quick to blame the assassins as failures even though it was Kitao's own bickering with other authorities that kept the group from targeting Sigma. Elimination seemed a just punishment.

            The problem was, they had not willingly committed the crimes. Again, it all fell back to Virdelko…and if elimination was just for them, what did that say for him?

            The general entered his private chambers in the central Army base, located in an entirely different Megacity. Part of him was glad he'd left _Icarus _when he'd had, but another part wished he'd have stayed to die. It had, after all, been his crimes that inspired these attacks. If the intelligence reports were true, the Maverick kingpins were former Terrornova fodder, and again that linked their deeds to Virdelko. He had knocked over the first domino on a chaotic chain that ended with the roar of nuclear weapons after decades upon decades of their silence. True, the damage was not at all extensive and was confined to a remarkably tiny area, but the thought was there—the thought that it could all have easily been so much worse.

            If he had caused something like this, what right did he still have to be in power? His orders had resulted in the exact opposite of what he had sworn to accomplish. He had failed in his duty, but beyond that he was, at least in his mind, guilty of terrible criminal acts.

            He had crossed to his window before realizing that he had his pistol out. The general stared in surprise at the sleek black weapon. He raised it closer to his face. Its sight called to mind his days in the service, back when the wars had been what he considered 'reasonable.' The Megacity Army was more of an extreme police force than it was anything else, given the general absence of war in the modern world. It moved into areas of turmoil to restore order, however, and Virdelko had shown great skill in keeping that order, part of the reason for his hasty advancement.

            But it seemed it had been too hasty, after all. He had become convinced that second-guessing himself was a waste of time, never considering the options as well as he should have. As a result his fellow humans had suffered under Maverick tyranny, and innocent Reploid noncombatants had been browbeaten with cruel and unfair laws, many of which Virdelko himself had pushed for.

            He'd fired this pistol before, and he'd killed with it. He'd been on just that one actual combat tour, fighting terrorists who had settled in the Mexican region of North America. There had begun his dislike for machines, for the enemy had used machines so effectively in killing Virdelko's comrades. He had prevailed then, but somewhere on the way he'd lost the path, and the pistol had been pointed at all the wrong people.

            Now there was no one left to point it at but himself.

            The thought initially surprised the general. At first he assumed it was his military ego, telling him the act reeked of cowardice, which he supposed it did. But the more he thought about it, the more problems it could solve. He was a threat, wasn't he? He'd orchestrated this, one way or another. He knew none of those outside would give him the punishment he deserved. Only he could stop himself, stop the orders that brought death to those who carried them out, stop the injustices done to Reploids, and stop above all the immense guilt that threatened to tear his soul to pieces.

            The pistol shook in his hand, and he realized that it was turned towards his face. Again it surprised him, and made him aware of the cold sweat that had seized him. His hand trembled slightly, but that, he told himself, was because of the indecision. And why was there any of that? He was guilty, now let him face the consequences.

            Sure, no one would really understand. There was nothing in his records to link him to this incident, at least nothing that could be understood. To them it would be a horribly random event, but he knew and that was all that mattered.

            _So why was it so damned hard?_

            He began to think he was a coward for _not _pulling the trigger, and to support it a million different excuses flooded his mind. He shut most out, but ironically enough this triggered the thought that stopped him. The thought was, _what next_? After Virdelko, what other General would be elevated to the command position tasked with managing military affairs in eastern North America? Truly it was a powerful position Virdelko held, and great care would be taken in selecting his successor.

            But yet, he knew who his successor would be: _more of the same._

            Nothing would change. Virdelko would die, but nothing would be accomplished other than that he'd be free of guilt. It _was _cowardice, he thought, and it was shying from…from _what? _His _responsibilities?_

            The thought shocked him worse than anything else had, but at the same time it made perfect sense. He did have a responsibility. Killing himself would not be sufficient penance, for nature would kill him sooner than later anyway. If he wanted to truly pay for what he had done, to change things for the better…abandoning this power he had was not the way to go.

            _It is all in the way I use it._

            Until now, Klementi Virdelko had used the power to hinder Reploid progress. But what if suddenly he reversed this course, pushing not for the restrictions that had resulted in all _this_ but for something different, that might prevent this from happening again?

            If someone had told Virdelko years ago that he'd eventually support Reploid rights, he'd probably have shot him. But now, it seemed the only way to go. Restriction had been the policy of the Megacity System for a long time, and what had they to show for it? Four major uprisings and now nuclear mayhem? After all this, wasn't it up to _someone _to enough to admit they were wrong? That maybe restriction wasn't the way to go on everything?

            Virdelko stared at the pistol in his hands and a cold shiver shook him. He holstered the weapon as quickly as he could, falling against the wall to support himself in light of his suddenly weak knees. What had he almost _done_? He could never allow himself to seek that exit, not now. It would be a worse crime than everything he had already done.

            He knew full well what he was planning on getting himself into. His colleagues would not want to listen to what he would have to say, and much of the support he'd gathered throughout the years would erode, friends going with it. But without that, it wouldn't be much of a penance. And could it even be so bad? What was wrong with granting the same rights to everybody? Reploids were decidedly more dangerous physically than humans, but mentally they were equals. The world had lived with Reploids for years now, and if that wasn't time enough to adapt to their differences, that was tough.

            It was easier said than done, of course, but Virdelko didn't care. It was a reason to keep going, and he needed one of those at the moment. The only other option was the pistol in his holster, and the more he thought of it the less attractive that option really was.

            General Virdelko sat on his bed, closing his eyes. His exhaustion would only get worse, but for once it might yield some fruit that wasn't poisoned. He hoped it would be enough.

            The Megacity general wasn't the only one looking for a hold on life. Another figure wandered the streets of Megacity 5, streets that were far enough from the _Gallagher _attack zone to be in perfectly good shape. The Maverick insignia had been torn from his shoulder, and he was grateful for it. His bug-eyes and odd nature attracted enough attention, and Mavericks weren't exactly popular now.

            Greenback—he had dropped the "Barrier" from his name—walked in a very human way, despite how awkward it looked, not going anywhere in particular. His mind was miles from where he stood, and even his mind had no set destination.

            Since his fall from _Gallagher_, Greenback had concerned himself only with getting as far from the chaos as possible. He had never truly known fear until that moment, fleeing from his Hunter pursuers and leaving behind his comrades to their fates. What he knew was, he was not cracked up to be a Maverick. As a mechanic and engineer he had been delighted to see that his weapons worked, but until now he had never actually considered what the weapons _did_. Oh, he'd always known, but it had never really _meant _anything to him.

            "Stupid, stupid Greenback," he muttered, as mind and body briefly rejoined each other. "Should have known, should have known you was in over your big head."

            He curled into a crouch and cleared the street in a great hop, flying clear over the heads of several startled pedestrians and absently snagging a fly on the way. He landed on all fours, and remained there until he found somewhere else to leap. Everyone stared, and he hated that, so he ducked into an alley. He always felt safer in the shadows.

            He supposed he'd return to Steel Alley eventually. That was the only place he could call home. But once there he didn't know what he'd do. Despite his oddities, Greenback was very much a social creature. He enjoyed interactions with the few others who could stand him. With Revolver dead and stationmaster Cartwright under surveillance, however, he may well be out of luck there.

            "Revolver was big stupidhead anyway," Greenback sniffed, moving absently through the alleys. "Always talking about super duper dream. Greenback wishes he could kick Revolver in face. Would hurt, too. Wake Revolver up before he goes to kill himself on stupid dumb butt plan." Too late, he knew. If only things had gone a little differently.

            Greenback ambled into one of the darker streets in the district, a road lined mostly with bars and project housing. He took a grand leap to clear the street entirely, which was when he heard the voice split the night. It came from a bar further down the road, and stopped Greenback prematurely so that he came down hard on a garbage can.

            _"THIS IS RAT PISS! RAT PISS, I TELL YOUUUUU!!!"_

Greenback freed his leg from the dumpster, blinking his big eyes and wondering if in fact he'd heard what he thought he'd just heard. Seconds later, however, the bar's door swung open and a skunk Reploid spilled out, rolling across the street in a rather pathetic display before coming awkwardly to his feet, attempting to look dignified but failing miserably. Next out the door was a big gorilla Reploid, who kept waving his arms and making longwinded excuses for his friend, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the bartender behind him wasn't listening, and was also jamming the happy end of a shotgun into his hairy back while screaming great obscenities.

            "_And don't come back_!" were the barkeep's last words before slamming the door shut behind him. The gorilla continued explaining things to thin air, apparently unaware that the bartender was gone.

            "FINE!" the skunk shouted back, knowing his voice could still be heard. "I'll tell them all! I'll tell them that you raise little _rats _for their _urine _and you _drink _it and that your _MOTHER IS A BIG STINKY ANTELOPE FROM THE PLANET—"_

            But the skunk never got to say what planet the bartender's mother was from, because the bartender burst through the door again and fired his shotgun into the air, while bellowing a war cry.

            "Oh noooo," the skunk wailed, grabbing the babbling gorilla and racing away from the bartender, who was cackling manically and lowering his shotgun to kill.

            A long, sticky tongue snapped the shotgun from the man's hands and smashed the weapon destructively against a wall on the return trip to Greenback's mouth. He let the remnants of the weapon hit the floor before leaping high into the air towards the bartender, who was looking around rabidly for the new enemy. He looked up and their eyes met, and time froze and both noticed it. Greenback hovered menacingly in the air, and the bartender glared right back. All they needed was the sunglasses.

            Before the bartender could do anything Greenback's tongue was out again, sweeping his legs out from under him. The bartender landed flat on his back and Greenback touched down behind him, fixing the human with a big goofy grin. "Moodi."

            "What?" the bartender asked in confusion.

            "That's what planet she's from. Moodi. You know," Greenback's gaping smile grew wider. "Where the druggie smurfs sing their song of happy joy and camels moo and Wingdings is the official spoken language and where the towels are oh so _fluffy_!"

            The bartender blinked twice before letting out a shriek of pure and utter horror. He scrambled to his feet and rushed into the safety of his bar, wailing something about the end of the world. Greenback watched, then broke into a full cacophony of throaty laughter. _That _was fun.

            But he had work yet to do. Swinging like Spider-Man on building walls with his tongue, Greenback traversed the distance between himself and the fleeing misfits, landing directly in front of them as they continued their mad dash to safety. "Wotcher!"

            "AHH!" the skunk shrieked, backing up into the still babbling gorilla. "G-get away! I am a highly trained—_hic_—combat specialist who can count to—_hic_—twelve!"

            "Hey," the gorilla finally said, realizing they were not at the bar anymore. "Where are we going?"

            "Away from _him_, Ludwig!" the skunk growled at Greenback. "Away from—hey, you're not the—_hic—_bartender!"

            "And you is drunk, Pierre," Greenback grinned at his old friends. "Greenback is wise in these things."

            "Gree…GREENBACK!" Pierre seemed to sober up as simply as one could snap their fingers. "By the Stuff, it _is _you!"

            "Whoa!" Ludwig boomed, his eyes and mouth gaping comically. "It's Greenback, Pierre! Look!" Ludwig even pointed, so Pierre would not miss him.

            Greenback couldn't quite believe his luck. He remembered Pierre and Ludwig from when they'd come to work at Cartwright's station. They'd been fired after one of them had developed the bright idea of stealing and selling the railroad tracks, but Greenback had spent as much time with them as possible. They made him feel normal. There were many questions to be asked, but Greenback started with the one that grated on him the most: "How have you two not _died _by now?"

            "Ah, well!" Pierre said proudly, taking a dramatic pose. "We are wise in the ways of everything—"

            "Especially booze!" Ludwig interjected brightly.

            "—Especially booze," Pierre agreed. "That is, when some shitmonkey like that isn't trying to sell us rat piss."

            "Hee hee!" Ludwig giggled. He thought "shitmonkey" was hilarious.

            "What about you, pal?" Pierre asked eagerly. "What have you been doing all these years?"

            Greenback frowned. He wasn't sure he wanted to burden them with the truth. "Greenback was making things," he said with a shrug. "Things that Greenback thought were important."

            "Be more pacific!" Ludwig requested. "Pierre says I'm not the sharpest drawer in the knife!"

            "I rest my case," the skunk muttered.

            "Not much more than that," Greenback elaborated innocently.

            "Mm. Well Greenback," Pierre said, clapping the frog on his shoulder, where so recently a Maverick insignia had rested. "We don't know where we're goin', but hey, we never do. If ya wanna come along, it'd be great!"

            "Grrrrreat!" Ludwig piped up, in his best Tony the Tiger voice.

            The frog blinked. "You'd let Greenback come along?"

            "Hell yeah! Think of all the fun shit we'll mess up!" Pierre seemed to like the idea more and more as he went along. "We could be like the Three Musketeers, only they were pansies with dumb hats."

            "What about the Three Gorillas, Skunks and Frogs?" Ludwig offered, very seriously.

            "Why do _you _get to go first?" was Pierre's equally serious response.

            Greenback would have hugged them if it weren't so anatomically awkward. If he was going to be a misfit for the rest of his life, he couldn't think of two better people to be a misfit with. "Where are we going now?"

            "Eh, we can crash at our place for tonight," Pierre said easily. Then he perked up as though it were Christmas. "We still got some of the Stuff left over!"

            "OOOO!" Ludwig clapped his hands together.

            "What's the Stuff?" Greenback tilted his big head in curiosity.

            Both Pierre and Ludwig stood staring openmouthed at their friend, as though they'd just heard him say, "I like to do calculus."

            "He does not know of the Stuff and its ways," Pierre said in horror.

            "He must be edumacated," Ludwig said in equal shock. "You're being deprivied!"

            "What?" Greenback croaked, feeling as if he'd just committed some mortal sin.

            "Come!" Pierre said, straightening like some military commander and marshalling Greenback in the direction of his "place", Ludwig close behind. "No longer shall you walk in darkness, friend Greenback! For tonight you shall partake of the Stuff, and you shall see the _light_!"

            For Greenback, the eventual realization that his new companions worshipped Pixie Sticks would come as the first of no less than a million surprises in a life full of twists, turns, madness and absolute incredulity in the eyes of anyone sane. Frankly, he couldn't have asked for anything more, and wondered why he'd ever settled for anything less.

            The district hospital was quite massive, and reminded Delates of the Hunter Headquarters itself. In here were all the sick and weary from the sizable population of this sector of the sprawling Megacity 5, but they only took up about three fourths of the space. The rest of it, and that was a sizable chunk, was devoted to laboratories and the experiments conducted within, as scientists and doctors searched for new ways to deal with life's ailments.

            The emerald Hunter strolled into the lobby, which struck him as entirely too quiet a place. He knew that the wounded were being airlifted to the helipad on the roof, and that the only people coming in the front doors were going to be visitors, and at this hour that made for very few people, but there was still shock at jumping from the hustle and bustle of the HQ to this somber house of medicine.

            Castle and Tyclammel flanked him as they entered, and at the sight of the ebon guerilla two figures rose from chairs in which they'd been quietly lounging. One was a human with a strong build, and the other a ruby Reploid with an even more massive physique.

            "Henry, Dantz," Castle greeted them with a tired nod. "How are things?"

            "I'm sorry about Stromm," Delates said to Henry Wallace before the guerilla could reply.

            Wallace just shook his head. "He did what we all would have done."

            "This place quieted down, and they're just about finished with the new arrivals." Dantz's deep voice seemed booming even in this low tone. "Signas will be here soon, probably with Caligula."

            Castle nodded. Unit 8 was probably the only unit to which Caligula's presence was a comfort. The guerillas were considered by some to be the military arm of the Invisible Men…which wasn't entirely a false assumption, since Unit 8's members made up the core of Caligula's Aegis squad, a squad which Damia was actually co-Commander of, though she and Caligula had kept that even more secret than the existence of the unit itself.

            Delates wanted to ask them about their Commander, but he didn't have to waste his breath. Dantz knew exactly why Zero's second was there and didn't make him wait any longer. "Damia is, for the moment, out of surgery."

            "For the moment?" Castle asked, his worries plain.

            "They just got her internals back together," Wallace said with a shiver. "That was the worst part of it."

            "She'll need a grafting operation, but that'll be it." Dantz smiled, though without much triumph. "It'll soon be over."

            "The hell it will be," Castle growled, his anger taking him again. "The bastard who did this'll pay."

            "Thought he already did," Wallace frowned. "Damia herself got him." Delates looked up. It was news to him.

            "That was just Kuwangner." Castle clenched and unclenched his fists, not bothering to keep the poison out of his voice or eyes. "There was another little prick there when we showed up, some fruit in a red coat. I don't know where he ran to but by _God _he better hope we never find him."

            "Oh we will," Dantz said flatly, and the tone of his voice made it a declaration of fact, not some empty sentence.

            Delates himself had been quiet. He was angry, yes, but he had more important things on his mind. "Can I see her?"

            "Actually, you might be able to." Wallace nodded to the elevator. "Last I heard Cal was sending one of his people to talk to her."

            "So soon after the operations?" Tyclammel frowned, and Delates knew why. Even through the painkillers she would be in a world of hurt.

            "She wanted to do it," Dantz explained, with the faintest hint of a grin. That would be their commander, and it meant that the Mavericks had not broken her.

            Delates left Castle with his comrades and went with Tyclammel to the elevator. They were fairly silent on the way up, both reorienting themselves to being someplace full of people who didn't want to kill them. They emerged into the proper level and found things to be predictably chaotic, but not overly so. Nurses and doctors rushed here and there to help with the few critical cases remaining, but by and large things were complete. By the time Delates found a help desk it had been about an hour since his return from the Catskills. In that time he imagined they could have reattached X's arm and fixed his other injuries, explaining Signas' pending visit. Zero might take a little longer, since the crimson warrior had been smashed rather solidly by Sigma after the Maverick King had gone "a little apeshit," to use Zero's words. He didn't know how Zero had managed to survive, and his boss wasn't telling.

            After learning the room number he started in its direction. Along the way he saw several Reploids he knew, including Shadin from X's unit. She was fast asleep and looked whole, which given the descriptions of what had happened to her was a relief. Next they found Cort, who in sharp contrast was sitting lazily up in bed reading a newspaper covering the previous two days' events. Apparently Gerritt's bullets had been removed from his chest already, and he was progressing quite nicely.

            Tyclammel stayed to bring Cort up to speed, leaving Delates alone as he approached Damia's room. The door opened before he got there, and a human he identified as Alan Seitz exited. That surprised Delates, because he'd seen Seitz back at the base. How had he gotten here so much earlier? He put it out of mind—the spooks had about a trillion tricks up their sleeves—and nodded to Seitz, who nodded back and went on his tired way. Delates slipped in quietly and closed the door behind him.

            What he saw was not quite as bad as the mental image he'd projected. He didn't know exactly what had been done to her, but the various machines hooked up to her midsection implied that at least a few of her internals needed a jumpstart. Blankets covered her lower half but from the waist up she was naked save for a chestplate for decency. He smiled as he imagined her raging about being seen in such a way, though now she probably had more important things to worry about.

            She hadn't quite gone under yet and her eyes opened slowly when he took her hand, crouching next to the bed. He felt sick at seeing the lines of pain etched in her face, but the look in her eyes was ten times worse. Then she recognized him, and it was like switching on a light. A gasp of pure relief escaped her lips and her head lolled towards him. He wanted to crush her in a full embrace, but had to settle with cradling that head against his own, kissing her forehead and running his hand through her hair in as soothing a gesture as he could muster. He was surprised to feel tears on her cheeks, but if anything it made him all the more relieved to be alive and with her. "You get into the most interesting situations, babe…"

            She murmured something inaudible, and then dropped her voice to a whisper, but the whisper he could understand. "Enemy…?"

            Delates smiled, squeezing her hand tighter and feeling her respond in turn. "We got him."

            The smile that played across her face was weak, but a smile nonetheless. "Me too."

            He kissed her again, brushing the tears away as she turned her head to look him in the eye. There was joy there, but far too much pain behind it. "You're gonna be all right," he assured her, hoping his own eyes conveyed the conviction.

            She hesitated for a minute, and he didn't know if it was from reluctance of if it just took that long to gather the breath. "Don't go."

            He doubted if she'd ever said that to anyone before. "I'm staying right here," he promised, clenching her hand all the more. "I'm not leaving this damn hospital till they let you out."

            She smiled again, looking more at peace then than he'd ever seen her despite the shivers that had begun to take her. He could see she was in pain and began coaxing her into sleep, whispering softly and lightly scratching her head. He didn't stop until well after she'd slipped under the haze of medications and exhaustion. She'd never needed anyone like this before and he'd be damned if he left her hanging. Above that, though, there was a sense that he was doing something right. He felt he'd failed two of his comrades, but at least he could still succeed with this one. It'd be a victory better than beating Sigma, in Delates' view, and he'd make damn sure he won it.

            Vulcan found the hospital to be quite oppressive. Given the nature of the images that plagued him, being in a place where people regularly died helplessly didn't do much for his psyche.

            It did help talking to Krysta, who was painfully awake but awake nonetheless. Her repairs had gone off without a hitch, but she still claimed to feel fire where Scythe's weapon had pierced her side. Rykov had left them to get something to drink, and it didn't take Krysta long to notice that she wasn't the only one wounded. "What's wrong with you, Vulcan?"

            At first he just laughed. Then his face took on a look that was almost desperate. "I don't know."

            She listened as he told, in painful detail, the story of what had happened during the fight with Tetra, and she shivered as she began to understand what the problem was. "What exactly are you afraid of?"

            "I'm not really _afraid_ of anything," he said, fumbling for an explanation. "It just…_disturbs _me and I can't get away from it."

            "We have counselors," she suggested. "We have them because you're not the only one this happens to. People get over it."

            "Some don't," Vulcan pointed out, shuddering slightly. For a second he saw himself as one of those broken down old former soldiers, huddling in some alley somewhere and jumping whenever he heard a loud noise.

            "But you will," Krysta said forcefully, resting her hand on his. "Rykov and I will make sure of that."

            "How…?"

            "Friends find ways." She smiled. "Don't worry about it, man. We just won an uprising. Things'll get a hell of a lot better before they get worse, and I'll be here for ya if you need help along the way."

            Vulcan wanted to believe her about things getting better, but something stopped him. He knew he'd be facing a hard battle, but he hoped it would be a short one. All he needed to do, he told himself, was to adapt himself to peacetime. Once he changed gears, he would be fine. Once he started living a normal life, the images had to go away. Didn't they?

            "Don't worry," she said, grinning. "When I get out of here we'll go do something totally irresponsible. It'll get your mind right back on track."

            That did make him smile. It was, for a second, normalcy. "What would I do without you?"

            Krysta smiled. "Let's hope you never have to answer that one."

            Despite the promised radioactive fallout, the skies of Megacity 5 were far from quiet.

            Two Raven jets sped over the sleeping city, part of a task force assigned to catalogue any and all activity going on below. Caligula had requested the mission, and Commander Taggart had given the okay, though with him in the hospital control had fallen to Alec.

            The pilot had no room left for rage. He'd already taken all his anger out on those bastards who'd invaded the HQ. But that didn't stop his determination. The nuclear blast had destroyed Taggart's sight. That meant that because of these Maverick bastards, Alec's commander had been blinded—and thus, he had been grounded. They were also the same bastards who'd killed Carlos Delgado. To say there was nothing personal going on here would be a lie.

            Several of the Ravens had shot out to the Catskills, chasing down straggler Mavericks fleeing the base and gunning them down. Alec had declined to participate in this slaughter, opting instead to work with Bale in coordinating the requested recon flight. They didn't know exactly what they were looking for, but they did spend a lot of time on the city outskirts. Taggart had suggested they pay careful attention to any vehicles, especially groups of them, but they were far more interested in the people. Groups of people were uncommon at this hour, but given the events most of them were out there for reasonable reasons. What Alec was looking for was signs of a command post, someplace out of the ordinary people kept going to and leaving on a regular basis. He imagined that groups of Mavericks would try to cluster together before attempting to flee, but after Caligula announced that the Gold Serpent might be involved, Alec had to watch more than just the Reploids. So far there had been no signs of trouble, but he collected the needed information nonetheless, mostly through pictures. He didn't know how, but the Invisible Men had a habit of taking shots of random stuff and discerning everything from ammo dumps to enemy base locations out of them, and usually they were on target.

            "I tell ya, Al," Bale's voice came into the communicator, "it'd be a lot easier if they all wore the insignia."

            "Don't call me Al," Tremont replied absently. "And yeah, it would, but it'd take the fun out of it."

            "Fun?" Bale sighed, taking his Raven around for a pass of the 7th district. "Well, if you're the kind who _likes _watching paint dry…"

            "Don't knock it till you've tried it." Alec sighed himself. This was going to take all night, but he didn't entirely mind. It gave him time to think, and that was what he needed now more than anything. Taggart knew he would be out of commission, and all signs indicated that Alec would be the one to replace him. Though he was a career fighter pilot, Alec had to wonder whether or not he was capable of such an office. He was all right blowing stuff up, but a _leader_?

            Well, he'd shown decent leadership back there, he admitted. If he hadn't mobilized the grounded pilots as quickly as he had, many of his friends would be dead. That had to count for something. And he already helped Taggart with a number of managerial duties. There was, of course, the chance he was being overly presumptuous and someone else would be asked to lead the unit. That would be just fine and dandy with Alec, who much preferred blowing stuff up to management any day.

            Whatever the case, his mission now was simple, and the battle looked to be won. It'd be great, he knew, to settle back into his trouble-causing routine. He certainly hoped Vulcan would be sane enough to participate. According to Rykov, the poor bastard had gone crackers.

            "Well, that's nothing a few shrinks and a bottle of whiskey can't fix," the pilot thought aloud, turning his aircraft for another run and smiling as he felt the freedom of the sky. He did a quick midair roll—he had the record for the most rolls in a row—and allowed himself to enjoy the ride. He was a pilot in the sky—the problems of the grounded world had ceased to matter.

            The grounded world certainly had its share of problems, though, and many of these problems were gathering in a warehouse on the outskirts of Sub-City 5, Megacity 5's farthest-reaching "suburb". The lights were out, but the building did not sleep. No one entered the place from the front door, but passerby disappeared unnoticed from the alley behind the big structure, having darted into a hidden back entrance.

            In one large room on the uppermost level, a short blue Reploid typed away at a computer. His face was etched into one big frown, but not one of overt worry. He was simply busy—busier than he'd been in a long time. Their operation hadn't gone off as well as planned, but there was still a destabilization within the government and the Hunters, and now was the time to act.

            The diminutive Reploid, Guyver, was the man who'd set up Malevex and Gredam with hacker Scythe a way long time ago. He was the one who'd gathered the information about Zero and Signas visiting Sub-City 3 and sold the info to the Mavericks. Even before that, he'd been in charge of recruiting Cassius and masterminding the theft of X74-Marauder from Alden Base. Because of these successes, Guyver was considered by most in the Gold Serpent network to be Kou Cao's right hand man, and in a sense they were right. Guyver had never seen the Serpent's real form, but had met the man on a number of occasions. Now, Guyver was hard at work coordinating mass theft.

            The point of the nuclear attacks, so far as the Serpent network was concerned, had been to destabilize the authorities enough for a series of thefts and raids to take place, fattening the pockets of the Serpent's allies and those he wished to have as allies while at the same time striking hard at Megacity 5's wallet. Guyver knew the authorities would be out for his blood, but they didn't know who in particular he was or where he was situated, so he hardly cared. By and large the operation was over, since the Hunters and the Army had begun to collect themselves, but Guyver still had a lot of loose ends to tie up. So far, however, he considered the operation a success. All that remained was this one last meeting.

            "He's late."

            Guyver just sighed, not bothering to visually acknowledge the other presence in the room. "You can bitch at him when he gets here, if you want. I won't stop ya. Could use the entertainment, actually."

            "I respect the powers of organization," the gruff voice countered. It belonged to a big Reploid in green armor leaning against the wall, both bored and nervous. "The brass will be organized shortly enough. You think they won't have some way to track your computer?"

            "They might," Guyver said dryly, "if I wasn't such a frickin' genius." He finished a command and turned to look at the other Reploid, a mercenary who he'd just recently lured into the network. "And you've got a lotta wind, for someone in your position."

            "My…_position_ was just fine until you butted in."

            "I know. Now it's even better." Guyver smiled mercilessly. "The Hunters know who you are, and if they don't they'll soon find out. The Brazilian captives will sing like canaries. No honor among thieves, you know?"

            "I know," the Breaker growled. "And I'm supposed to be thankful for your _protection_?"

            "No, you're supposed to be grateful for my protection, but far more so for the fun and exciting jobs I'm about to offer you." The voice was new, and both heads turned to the door. Guyver stood up, and the Breaker followed suit, not fully knowing why.

            Two figures had entered, both of them in coats. The first was an older looking Reploid in a red lab coat, and he looked very pleased about something. The second, the one who'd spoken, was a tall figure in a heavy gray coat that covered most of his person. Guyver had seen him before, though he'd never heard the voice from within used so easily. "Kou, welcome back."

            "You mean…" the Breaker blinked. "Oh."

            "Yes, that's the usual reaction." The Gold Serpent then did something that shocked the bejesus out of everyone present—he unbuttoned his coat and cast the thing off, followed by the black hat that had shaded his face. Now visible was an imposing Reploid in jagged black armor with a blueish gem set in the center of his helmet. "What? Is there something in my teeth?"

            "No, no sir," Guyver stopped staring.

            "Good." The Serpent gestured to the bearded figure in red. "Boot up a computer, Volvar, I want to see what you've got." He then turned to Guyver personally. "My name is Chartreuse. I tell you this because you'll be hearing it a lot from the authorities." There was no sign of reaction from anyone present. None of them knew who Chartreuse was, which suited the Serpent perfectly fine.

            The implications of revealing his name to Guyver were not lost on his lieutenant. As Guyver had said, there was no honor among thieves. If they had learned quietly of the Serpent's identity, which had somehow been exposed, they could have used it to buy allies against the now-targetable crime boss. However, Chartreuse had just negated that possibility. "How did things go on your end?"

            "Not as well as I'd hoped, but well enough." Chartreuse took a seat, stretching mightily. "First and most importantly, _Icarus _is gone. This is a major victory. It was the Army's central database for Megacity 5. We'll own this place by the time they get everything back online. As for the Hunter base, things could have gone better, but they'll be out of commission long enough that we shouldn't have to worry about them in the near future. Reports also indicate that the Hunters have done me the tremendous favor of eliminating those pawns of mine. They would have been hard loose ends to get rid of." He could have gone on and on about how satisfying it was to know that those bastards who'd slipped through his fingers years ago were now dead, but it would have been lost on these three. "What about you?"

            "I'd say we have ourselves an empire," Guyver said, failing to hide his pride. "We made a lot of friends with this one…powerful friends. Sub-groups are springing up all over the Megacity System, wanting ties to our central network."

            "Excellent." Chartreuse pressed his fingertips together. "Another stunt like this and we'll _really _hit it big."

            "You have something in mind?"

            "Not really, but we have lists of options available to us. What we just did was once just a long shot idea, like all the others. We'll take a look at what's economically feasible when things settle down a bit." He let his vision drift to the Breaker, who'd been waiting patiently. "And this is…?"

            "He's a mercenary the Mavericks hired to maintain their Brazilian base," Guyver said, not allowing any emotion to seep into his voice. "He failed."

            "I had the Brazilian Army _and _the Hunter forces crashing down on me," the Breaker growled. "I took steps to destroy the Hunter commander, but it happened too late to be of real use. Besides, it was Split Mushroom's fool self who was running the show. I just handled perimeter security."

            "And you're good?" the Serpent asked pointedly.

            "I…I'm held in high regard by certain organizations," the mercenary allowed.

            "We'll see how you do in mine. If you accept, that is."

            The Breaker blinked. "I accept. What do you have?"

            "Oh, I'm sure something will come up." Chartreuse smiled with some amusement at the Breaker's reaction. "Don't worry. You'll be compensated enough for whatever you do that the jobs you missed in between won't matter. Provided you succeed, of course."

            "Of course," the Breaker replied quietly, sitting back in some amazement.

            "Volvar!" Chartreuse rose and strode over to Kuwangner's partner. "What have you for me?"

            Doc Volvar was relieved beyond words. Not only had he managed to evade fierce Hunter pursuit, but he'd also managed to complete the task Kou Cao had given him. That meant more jobs and, probably, refuge. He was also proud of his work, and it showed. He'd been a Maverick for a long time, but unlike most of that bunch his loyalty was more to his work than to Sigma. He'd accepted the Serpent's offer to pay him to develop a new torture method, working with Boomer Kuwangner to produce enough results to merit a perfected technique.

            "More or less," he began, "it's a different form of the truth serum. Since it's uncommon that people have the serum in the field, this works just as well, despite the mess." He smiled slightly. "You need to restrain the victim very well. In this case we used a neuralizing device to paralyze the victim's motor skills. These things are easy enough to carry, but even if you don't have one it's all good. Just make sure they can't move, or you're dead." He shuddered, having already heard what had happened to Kuwangner. The biggest insult was that that bitch was probably still alive. "There is a point when the Reploid body is in so much pain that the mind cannot occupy itself with anything but the realization of that pain. This is when you ask your questions, dulling the pain enough so the victim can hear you and letting them know that the pain will end when they speak. It's that old self-preservation thing again—they don't even realize they're saying anything."

            "You've tested this?" Chartreuse frowned, staring at the grid on Volvar's computer.

            "Yes. We didn't allow our victim a chance to say anything, but given the readings there was definitely a point where she would have said anything we wanted her to say, whether she realized it or not." The doctor shrugged. "You can achieve this level of pain in several ways. The traditional Surgers would work well, I imagine. I did it by opening the victim's belly and electrocuting the inside of an internal organ."

            Guyver looked sick; even Chartreuse shivered. "Well, it's…direct, I suppose…"

            "Very." The ruthless doctor smiled. "Don't worry, she deserved it."

            "I hope," Guyver said with no small amount of bewilderment, shaking his head. "It'd be a bit rude otherwise, wouldn't it?"

            "You better hope she died, mate," Chartreuse said, somewhat amused by a thought to the contrary.

            "That'd be the reason I'm keeping a low profile."

            The Serpent straightened up and smiled. "Good. Reploids have been known to perform an internal systems flush before truth serum can take hold and thus escape its effects, but this wouldn't give them much of a chance, would it? I think we can find a safe haven for you, Doc, if you'd like to try your hand at other…projects?"

            "Sounds like fun."

            "Nice." Chartreuse allowed himself another, more private smile. He'd allowed himself to despair once during this campaign, when the first Buzzbomb had failed to destroy the Hunter Headquarters. Now, however, it seemed like things were going to turn out quite well. That left him a new opening. The authorities would be reorganizing, but so would he, and he with his longer reach he'd be able to try something even more daring next time.

            "Is that all?" Guyver asked, sitting back at his computer.

            "No, we're still waiting on someone else." Chartreuse checked his internal timer.

            "Another grunt?" Guyver guessed.

            "Yes, I hired him personally. I liked his attitude." Chartreuse would have said more, but the door opened cautiously to admit a Reploid in blue and black armor with white hair. "And here he is now."

            "Am I late?" Dynamo asked sheepishly, stepping into the faint light cast by Guyver's computer. "Sorry…bag ladies are killer this time of night."

            Mega Man X stared at the white ceiling for ten full minutes before he finally worked up the motivation to move.

            First to twitch was his head, rolling from right to left to survey his surroundings. Everything came quickly and easily back to him and he examined his reattached arm, flexing the fingers and smiling at the realization that everything seemed to be in proper working order. It was sore as hell, but he could live with that.

            He knew he wasn't supposed to sit up in a hospital bed but he did it anyway, feeling very dizzy as the aftereffects of the tranks used to put him under took hold. He sat still for a while, clearing his head, and gave the command for his internal systems to cleanse themselves. This would neutralize the painkillers, but he wanted to be fully awake now, just like after every other Maverick battle.

            His shoulder hurt like a monster, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He had a bit of a headache, but other than that he was fine. A bit of worry fluttered through his mind as he thought of all the other Hunters he knew, wondering if they were still alive—again, something that happened after every uprising.

            His thoughts ultimately rested on Zero. X exhaled slowly as the obedient part of his personality raged at the thought of nuclear terrorists on the loose, but he put the thought down with far greater ease than he had in Seraph Castle. He understood what Zero had been doing, and he didn't exactly think he had much to fear from the Terrornova cadre anymore. As far as Zero himself, he was reminding X more and more of the Zero who'd once rescued him from Vile's wrath—calm, collected, and confident. X had only been with Zero a few minutes after the Sigma battle, but in that short time his friend, though badly hurt, had conveyed an attitude that X hadn't seen from him since Final Weapon went down.

            _So Zero has changed,_ the champion Hunter thought, resting his hands on the edge of the bed and arching his stiff back. _What about me?_ X had always hated killing, but he was sorry to admit that he'd become used to it. War after war after war had made the act of destroying Mavericks just an everyday occurrence. In the past, his heart would have leapt at the possibility of giving an enemy a second chance. Now, though, he had been wholeheartedly against such a thing. _I have changed,_ he realized. _For the worse. Is it too late for me to change back…?_

            A nurse entered the room, and after blinking in annoyed surprise at the sight of her charge sitting haphazardly on the edge of the bed she spoke. "I have a Signas and a Caligula, requesting to see you." Clearly she didn't like the idea of admitting visitors so soon.

            X made her frown deeper. "Please, send them in." She left with a bit of a huff, and a minute later they entered—Signas, the big, heavily armored strategist and the shorter Caligula, his heavy brown coat trailing to his ankles. "You called, sir?"

            "If you're not feeling up to this yet…"

            "I'm fine," he assured the Grand Commander. "You two have a lot to do, so what do you need to know?"

            Caligula smiled. He liked when things moved fast. "Just give us the lowdown on Seraph Castle. Anything we may need to know."

            X did. He told them of their infiltration, the battles with Bit and Byte and Feldspar's demise. He related what he'd heard from Delates, that they had split off from X and fallen into a trap laid by a team of Mavericks. After their escape, they attempted to plant bombs at the core level only to be attacked by the same Mavericks, this time led by Sigma himself. Lyon had suffered a fatal wound, but managed to set the final bombs while the others dealt with Sigma's last line of defense, an armored humanoid behemoth that Lyon ultimately sacrificed himself to defeat.

            Next came X's own story, which required a little doctoring. He'd entered the second ring and destroyed Cyber Peacock. Next had come a battle with the Maverick kingpin called Mortar, who'd died when his ride armor went haywire. Here Zero reunited with him after eliminating another of the terrorists, and together they'd destroyed Malevex, the base commander, and Gredam, who'd been gathering supplies for the troops occupying the Hunter Headquarters. Sigma had been next. The Maverick King had attempted to flee in the Marauder ride armor with a spare warhead, but Zero had stopped him after a wild chase. By the time X had caught up, Sigma was dead and Zero lay badly wounded. He left out the part about the viral attack on his friend, figuring it'd do more harm than good.

            Signas nodded, but Caligula raised an eyebrow. "Is that all…?"

            X blinked. He really _was _easy to read. But he wasn't overly worried, because the truth about Terrornova wasn't the only thing he'd left out. "Actually, there was something else. I don't wholly understand it, but you should probably hear about it." He shifted his weight into a more comfortable position. "Have either of you heard about a Reploid named 'Ares' before?" Signas shook his head and Caligula just frowned.

            "Right, well…" X took a breath, trying to figure out how best to explain it. "We fought Bit and Byte once and managed to take Bit almost totally out of commission. When he reappeared, however, he—and Byte—were both, like, superpowerful. They talked about someone named Ares giving them their new strengths. What I imagine happened is, somehow their internal systems were accelerated far beyond what they should normally have been able to handle."

            "That's impossible," Caligula pointed out. "The Reploid in question would suffer a systems meltdown, unless there were a way to stabilize them during the procedure, and no one has yet found a way to do that."

            "But what if someone has?" X shrugged. "I don't know the details, but _something _made those two a lot more powerful than they ever were before. And that was without the armor."

            "Armor?" Signas asked.

            "They weren't the only ones affiliated with this Ares. Cyber Peacock was as well." X felt his body ache as he remembered that fight. "Cyber was…'converted' after I defeated him the first time, and had received new armor in the meantime. Apparently he got new weapons as well, because he had some incredible attacks…far more powerful than he should have been able to muster. I still defeated him, but it was way too close." He paused a second before going on. "Then I…talked to him."

            "Who?" Caligula pressed. "Ares?"

            "Yeah. I don't know how, but he projected his voice into the arena. From what he said, I started thinking two things. The first was that he can remotely connect to a Reploid's systems…somehow. The second was that he is definitely up to something big."

            Signas blinked, completely unsure what to make of this. Caligula was no different, though his mind was clearly racing. "What you're saying, X…it goes beyond what all modern technology _dreams _of. I mean, I'm not saying you're _wrong_ but as to whether or not you're right…this is gonna take a long time to examine."

            "Especially since we don't have any real leads," X added, somewhat apologetically. "I just thought someone oughta be aware of this."

            "I'll talk to you more about this later," the intelligence chief said, standing. "For now I think I have enough. If you'll excuse me, sirs." He nodded, his version of a salute, and left.

            "He's going to wear himself out," Signas observed, watching the spook leave.

            "Nah, he lives for these kinds of things," X smiled. "What about you? You look pretty worn out yourself."

            The Hunter general sighed. "Long, long week."

            "Tell me about it." X cracked his knuckles, and immediately regretted it as the nerves in his newly attached arm freaked out. "How are you handling the command aspect?"

            Signas blinked, unsure what to say. He was pretty sure where X was going with this, but wasn't sure he wanted to go there. "It's certainly a burden."

            "You can't save them all."

            "I know."

            "Do you?"

            Signas blinked again, a little defensive but at the same time knowing X was right. "It's a hard lesson to learn."

            "Isn't it?" X smiled sadly, staring back up at the ceiling. "Everyone expects so much of you…"

            "And you can't give them everything they want."

            "Yeah." The blue Hunter shook his head. "But you can't beat yourself up over it."

            "Oh I can't?" Signas said, with a faint smile.

            "Well…you _shouldn't._ Nothing good will ever come of it."

            "I know, X…I'll learn all these things in time, I'm sure."  
            "Just so long as it doesn't affect your performance. This was a victory here, not a defeat."

            Signas nodded. "Thank you. And I doubt my performance is going to be hampered by this at all."

            It was X's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're up to something."

            "Maybe." Signas shrugged. "It'll depend on where we stand once we've reorganized ourselves. Then you'll hear more about it. It's a bit drastic, but if it works we shouldn't have to worry about…well, _this._"

            X allowed himself to smile. Try as the Mavericks might, it didn't seem like they were going to cripple the Hunters anytime soon.

            "I should be going," Signas said, standing. "You'll know where to find me."

            "Likewise." X saluted as he exited, and thought Signas definitely carried more of a command presence than he had earlier. That was infinitely good. If all the Hunters could respect him as they had Cain, the future might not be so bleak, after all.

            With nothing better to do X laid back down in his bed. He was amazed at how tired he was, and before long he was drifting. He didn't always dream, but he did tonight, and it seemed somehow…more than a dream.

            There were faces…all of them he knew. They were his comrades, his friends. He saw Zero, Delates, Damia, Archer, Mason, Zegmann, Zion and others, and on another side Signas, Caligula, and Alia. They seemed confused. Something was wrong, but no one knew what. Then someone entered—it was Lifesaver, carrying a bloody body…it was…

            "Cain," X's ethereal self breathed. That was when things went totally out of control. Explosions rocked the area. Screams erupted from the ranks as all manner of attacks began to fall. There was a bright flash and X fell to the ground in pain. When the light cleared, all he could see was death. Damia lay in pieces on the ground. Delates rushed to her aid, then screamed as something impaled him from behind. X turned away to see Archer beheaded and Mason fighting desperately before something took his own head off. X darted to his feet, searching for a target but finding none. Enraged, he called out a challenge, but all he saw was Zero slumped against a wall, bleeding profusely and clinging to whatever seconds of life he had left. He rushed towards his friend, and all of a sudden there was Alia, lying broken at his feet. He tripped over her and when he looked up he saw the others, lying dead in a circle.

            Before X had a chance to wonder how they'd gotten there, a thunderous pounding racked his brain. He heard what he could equate only to a dragon's roar, and through the hellish noise he began to discern words.

            **You have chosen the path of the warrior, but yet your goal is to undermine war. You, Mega Man X, are the worst of traitors.**

            The Hunter raised his head and beheld five figures, wreathed in shadow. Flames blazed around them, likely of their own making, while the central figure, a massive cluster of flowing darkness with a presence far more powerful than anything X had ever encountered, spoke directly to his victim's mind.

            **For you and those close to you, the penalty will be horrific. You may expect retribution soon, Mega Man X. There is no escape from war.**

            The world around X shuddered, and his real eyes flew open. He sat bolt upright in his bed, feeling a cold sweat but not the least bit intimidated. He had just been challenged. But he had been challenged many times, and always he had triumphed. Besides, to threaten him was one thing. But no one threatened his friends and lived.

            "Bring it on, Ares," the Hunter whispered fiercely to the night. "We'll be waiting."

            Life. For some, it was linear, plain and uneventful. For him, it had been one wild curve after another, each time setting him on a new course that was more dangerous than the one before it. Though each turn brought with it new pains and new sorrows, it also brought new joys. This time, thankfully, there was for once more of the latter than the former.

            He thought of his first days of sentience, when Cain had arranged for him to be trained in all the finest arts of combat. He thought of his first friends, Gradient and Mea. He thought of the time spent with Commander Sigma, then a trusted mentor and charismatic leader. Then he thought of Mea's death, the first domino in the first chain of bad luck. Sigma had brutally betrayed them, and Gradient had died stopping him. Were it not for a little blue Hunter named X, the Mavericks would have owned the earth.

            But it had been of little consolation to him, because he himself had died. His revival had been surprisingly swift, but in horrible circumstances. He'd escaped, however, and so began a change for the better, a surge of the positive that had carried him well through Doppler's uprising. He thought of new friends and new opportunities. Colonel had become the fellow soldier X had never wanted to be, and Iris… But then there came the worst fall of them all, and only he had been standing at the end, coated in their blood. Now, though, the blood was gone, washed away by a simple yet incredibly difficult act of mercy that had opened infinite amounts of new doors.

            Zero's eyes opened very slowly, letting the light invade his world little by little. He knew where he was and why he was there, and was glad none of the memories had escaped from his mind as a result of his injuries. It took a while to make out images, but when he could he blinked in surprise at the figure sitting in the corner of the room. "Doc…?"

            "There are times, Zero, when I wonder how you can possibly still be alive," Doctor Cain said with an unconcealed grin. "Then I remember who you are."

            "Aw, come on…" Zero smiled back at his mentor. "We both know about my mad skills…you shouldn't even have to worry."

            "Sue me." Cain looked more relieved than Zero had ever seen him. "X is fine, and so are all the others. We sustained casualties here, but Signas overestimated the number."

            "We lost two…two of my guys." Zero blinked, somewhat in shock. "That's four of them gone in something that probably won't even be labeled an official uprising."

            "It happens, and you know it." Cain frowned and leaned forward on his walking staff. "But as long as Seraph Castle is gone, they did not die in vain."

            "Oh, it's gone." Zero allowed himself a smile. "Sigma with it."

            "I really thought he was going to sit this one out," Cain admitted. "I mean, I knew he'd be back someday, but it just seemed like he was going to leave this one in the hands of others while he…got stronger, or something like that."

            "He did, and we still beat him."

            Cain tilted his head slightly. Zero's mood was getting more and more upbeat. "You met the 'others', then?"

            "I did. They won't be a problem anymore," Zero said simply. He knew that may not be true, but he still had no problem saying it without fear.

            Cain smiled again. "Then it's over for you, isn't it? At long last?"

            Zero blinked in surprise. "What exactly do you mean…?"

            "Please, Zero." The old scientist chuckled. "I've seen you after each major battle, and you're never this pleased with yourself. The last time I saw you actually smile was before Repliforce went wild." He raised a hand to stop any response. "I don't know what you did back there, Zero, but whatever it was, it was right."

            Zero blinked yet again. "How can you be sure?"

            "Because I'm the wise old guy, and my role is to know such things." He got to his feet, slowly but steadily. "It's late. Signas will need some advice by now, if X hasn't already provided it. I just wanted to make sure you didn't spontaneously combust or something."

            The Hunter laughed, and the dull ache in his chest made him wish he hadn't. Then he looked the doctor in the eye. "Cain…thank you."

            He smiled and shook his head. "It's nothing."

            "No," Zero continued. "You've been more of a help to me than anyone I know. You could have—and probably should have—just considered me another soldier and let me fight my own battles, but instead…"

            Cain's expression was for a moment unreadable. Then he spoke in a very quiet voice. "You know I never had a real family. I've more or less adopted all the Hunters to fill that void, but…you and X have been the only constants through the years. I guess a part of me thinks of you two as the sons I never had."

            Zero felt his loyalty towards the departing Grand Commander solidifying even more. "You're not half bad as a father figure."

            "Well thank _you_ Zero." Cain smiled again and headed to the door. "They say you'll be out of here in a day or two. Make it sooner than later. Signas has some grand scheme up his sleeve, and we'll need as many Hunters up and running as fast as they can."

            "Tell him I'll be ready and waiting." Zero saluted the old man as he left, and smiled as the door closed. Wily may have come through in a pinch, but he had nothing on Cain.

            Zero sat up despite his restored body's protests and looked around the room. The tranquilizing agent used to put Reploids out was still in his system, but nevertheless he felt full of energy. Unlike Signas he had no grand scheme, but he didn't really need one to accomplish what he wanted to. There was a lot going on outside these walls, and he wanted to do his part.

            The Hunter then noticed the closed window a few feet from his bed. He gathered himself for the voyage and stood on shaky legs, walking slowly to the target and opening it as soon as he reached it. More than anything he wanted to breathe air that didn't smell like a hospital, no matter how cold it might be. And it was certainly cold, he learned, sticking his head out the window with his eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the wind against his face.

            When he did open his eyes he scanned the nearby city. He wasn't too terribly far above the ground, and could make out the snowy sidewalks below him. There were no passerby at this time of night other than paramedics smoking cigarettes, but he did see something noteworthy. After squinting for a while and still not being able to make it out, he cheated and used his optical program to zoom in on the object as far as he could.

            "Wow," was all he could say, when he made the object out. It was a cluster of violet flowers growing in a spot that made them viewable from his room, surviving despite the cruel December chill. Zero hadn't really believed it was possible…he'd expected some kind of symbolic event. But this literal display was far more powerful.

            He did not know how long he stared at the flowers, nor when exactly he started back for the bed, but he did know that he couldn't bring himself to close the window. He sat down smiling as a tear rolled down his cheek, and then he swore something stopped it in its tracks. At first he thought it had frozen on his wind beaten face, but then he felt a soothing presence next to him. He reached out to touch it, and while he met nothing physical there was something that went straight to his heart. Smiling again he laid himself back down, and he was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

            But sleep was no longer what it used to be. Zero wasn't even sure if he was really unconscious. He hardly minded, though, because even before he opened his eyes he could smell the very subtle fragrance of her hair and feel her body pressed against his. He felt his insides warm up as he kissed her forehead and held her in his arms. "Missed you."

            "Not as much as I missed you," Iris replied, smiling at him.

            "How did you do it?"

            "The flowers?" She laughed innocently. "My secret."

            "You're a miracle worker," he laughed in turn. "What else do you have up your sleeve?"

            Iris rested nose-to-nose against him, smiling with both eyes and lips. "What else do you need?"

            Zero looked her over, loving her more with each second and grinning broadly as he leaned in to kiss her.

            "I think I already have it all."

            Malevex didn't hate snow, but he did hate this situation. The cold stung the ebon Reploid's eyes as he peered out from his sanctuary at the snowscape before him. He squinted and absently wiped away the annoying tears before focusing on the object that intrigued him. Satisfied that it was just a rock that had until now been buried in snow, he retreated back into the well-hidden cave and crouched low against the cold stone wall. He listened carefully for any signs of approaching life, waiting anxiously for the sound of silence—a sound he was beginning to think would never come. They were stuck here until the planes and the foot soldiers decided to stop searching for straggler Mavericks, and even then the escape would be risky.

            What he did hear was footsteps coming from within the cave. He smiled at the figure as she approached, crouching down next to him and moving locks of raven hair away from her eyes. "Still on the lookout?" her clear voice inquired.

            He nodded. "That'd be the fifth Hunter-shaped rock I've seen tonight."

            "You're paranoid."

            "I know. How's Mortar?"

            Teytha leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes and letting out an exhausted breath. "Asleep."

            "You should get some rest, too."

            Her eyes opened, falling on his face. She reached up and brushed some melting snow off his features, eventually running her fingers through his hair and scratching the back of his head. "You too."

            He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be all right."

            "No, you'll be a zombie. No one's going to come for us here."

            "You don't know that." Something about the way he said it made them look each other in the eye. Malevex blinked a remaining flake of snow from his eye and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I was so afraid I'd lost you."

            "Shh," she whispered, hugging him even tighter. "It's over now…all of it." They took solace in that lie and in each other for a few minutes before she decided to voice the truth. "He's never going to leave us alone, is he?"

            "If Chartreuse is the Serpent…no, he won't." Malevex brushed his fingers across her cheek. "But he doesn't know we're alive. That's our edge, if he ever comes near us."

            "What if…" She frowned, as though she didn't believe what she was about to say. "What if we stopped him before he had the chance?"

            "Getting militant all of a sudden?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in interest.

            She rested her forehead against his. "I'd fight anyone to protect you, same as you'd do for me. You know that."

            The bond between them solidified permanently. He smiled reassuringly at her, tipping her chin up to look him in the eye. "He won't touch us. The Serpent's network hasn't reached the European Commonwealth. We'll be safe there. If he ever does come, we'll be more than ready to kick his ass. We've come so damn far, Teytha. Nothing's gonna stop us now. _Nothing_."

            She smiled back and they kissed each other, abandoning the fear of being caught by the Hunters or their archrival. They'd waited years for this kind of closeness, and finally nothing was there to distract them.

            The cold of the cave suddenly seemed more oppressive, and so they retreated to the back, huddling together far from the sleeping Mortar and keeping their voices to a whisper. Teytha curled up in Malevex's lap, and he held his shivering lover tightly. "You said you know someone in the Commonwealth?" she asked him, her lips near enough to his ears that she barely had to utter a sound.

            "I do. He can get the three of us in. From there, it's all up to us. A new home, new identities…new _lives_."

            "We finally have a future."

            "We do." He shivered himself, though not necessarily from the cold. He smiled sadly at her inquiring eyes. "I just…wish he could have known the same future."

            "I don't think he'd have died any other way. Gredam fulfilled his dream." Teytha said it in a way that reached right to her paramour's heart. She took his hand and kissed him lightly. "We owe it to him to do the same."

            "Yeah…" They relaxed into each other's arms again, Malevex now gently caressing Teytha's head. "We will."

            Minutes later the three exhausted survivors of Terrornova were all sound asleep, though they were far from alone. Figures clustered around inside the cave, watching them silently, all with a different expression on their face. They had been there since the get-go, unseen and unheard. One knelt down at Malevex's side, smiling at the look on his best friend's face. It seemed that, despite all odds, things had worked out in their favor after all.

            "Time to go, man," a voice said, from behind.

            "Hold your horses, Redmond," said another. "Can't you see there's a moment going on?"

            "Well I doubt they appreciate being haunted, Saybir," Redmond retorted.

            "Haunting's half the fun of being dead!" said a third voice.

            "Good for you, Grate, I've taught you well," was Saybir's chipper reply.

            "I'm fine, guys," Gredam said, standing and facing his comrades, the fallen Reploids of Terrornova. "So are our friends here."

            "They damn well better be," Redmond said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Someone has to be around to give that bastard Traitor what's coming to him."

            Gredam looked back at Malevex, Teytha and Mortar, wishing with all his might that he could stay with them but knowing he could help them better where he was now. "Live strong," he whispered to their sleeping forms, knowing their subconscious minds could make out his spectral voice. He snapped off a salute in their direction. "We'll be looking out for you."

            One by one the assassins stepped out of the cave and vanished into the snowy Catskill night. Gredam was the last, and just before he took his leave he noticed, growing out of the snow, what appeared to be of all things an iris flower. "Well I'll be," he grinned, as the world around him began to fade.

            Even in this day in age, miracles still existed.


	48. Marching On

**Epilogue: Marching On**

            _"Greetings, Hunters, soldiers and citizens."_

            The ranks moved into place, every individual marching in step with everyone else in a continuous beat of boots on asphalt. All forms stood erect, all heads were held high, and those looking on were hard pressed to tell who was a Maverick Hunter and who was a career soldier in the Megacity Army.

            _"Four months ago, this city suffered an attack that devastated it to its core."_

            They came to a halt in front of a podium, behind which stood a tall pillar of black marble. It had been fashioned recently and placed in Central Park, which was of near equal distance from the Army base and Hunter Headquarters. Engraved on it in gold was a long list of names.

            _"The combined forces of the Maverick Hunters and the Megacity Army drove off the threat, while the Hunters sent a team of their finest to eliminate the enemy leaders."_

The ranks were split in two, with the local army branch on the left and the Hunters on the right. Unit by unit the longtime enemies of Mavericks stood proud as the Army's equals, no longer content with being thought of as a troupe of mercenaries.

            _"As that battle drew to a close, so began the process of rebuilding our city."_

            They had come as summoned, marching in full battle dress and respectfully saluting the row of figureheads, which included Signas, Dr. Cain and the Megacity mayor, Marcus Raleigh. They paid close attention to General Virdelko as he began to deliver his speech, each wondering what the suddenly controversial Army man would have to say.

            _"As can be seen, progress has been made. We have rebuilt much of what was destroyed in our city. The Army base is back to full capacity, and repairs will soon be complete on the Hunter base."_

X's Unit 17 held one of the front three Hunter blocks. His ranks were considerably thinner now that the crisis was over, but he still had his lieutenants—Jasper, Scylla, Lariat and Shadin—who could not use a buster anymore but was becoming quite proficient with shruikens, thanks to a friendly ninja Huntress named Xu.

            _"The Hunters suffered a massive enemy strike on their own turf, but reclaimed their base despite the odds."_

            X himself couldn't help but smile at the way things were turning out. Despite Signas' radical changes in location and protocol, the Megacity people were playing ball. He mainly had Virdelko to thank for that. The former superconservative had become much more down to earth, pushing past Reploid-friendly policies to the surprise of everyone and to the anger of most of his former allies. To their surprise and the general's, however, the Army high command granted Virdelko a spot on the General Council for what they considered exceptional performance in the Red Winter, as many were calling it. Virdelko took it as an omen, and used his newfound powers to ensure that more of his new ideas became realities.

            _"Now, thanks to these courageous souls, we can look forward to a future free of terror."_

            X was fine with all this. The more peace there was in the world, the happier he was. It had been months since his subconscious encounter with Ares in the hospital, and nothing yet had happened to threaten him or any of the other Hunters. Nevertheless X kept all his soldiers trained and ready for anything. If Ares ever did decide to make good on his word, Mega Man X and the 17th would be waiting for him with bazookas in their hands and a battle cry on their lips.

            _"The Megacity Army will continue to track down perpetrators of terrorism both in this area and throughout the entire System. They will bring to justice any who threaten the peace bought with so many determined lives."_

            Zero and his small unit stood right next to X's, and they were the very picture of readiness. X had confided to Zero the threat Ares posed and Zero too wished to be ready for anything. Beside the crimson warrior stood Delates, whose sense of guilt over the death of his comrades had faded with memory of the war that had claimed them. He'd taken solace in saving another life, one much dearer to him, and this had banished any sense of failure. Cort and Tyclammel stood behind them, and in the back there were two new recruits to the unit. Zero had wanted Vulcan too, but given certain circumstances he'd decided to let the young Hunter stay where he was.

            _"The Maverick Hunters will be a continuing presence in our city. Even though Commander Signas has relocated the main Headquarters to Megacity 13, Tokyo, the contingent that will remain at this base will ensure that nothing threatens Megacity 5."_

            Next to Unit 0, the commander of Unit 8 felt a wry internal smile coming on. Of course nothing would threaten Megacity 5, because the only thing that ever had had been Mavericks, and with the main base moving to Tokyo all the major attacks would be redirected there. Unless, Damia allowed, the Mavericks actually got smart and spread their big attacks across the globe. Next to her stood Castle and Acrystos, side by side as usual, and behind them Henry Wallace, Brant Everett, Dantz and Deluge.

            _"But whatever the future may hold, we would do well to remember the past. We cannot forget what has happened here."_

            Damia and Delates caught each other's eyes and shared a very brief smile. The guerilla was sure she hadn't been seen, but the knowing nudge of Castle's elbow told her otherwise. She fought hard to keep a wider smile from her face. She was being ridiculously lenient on her Hunters, and Castle loved to see how far it could go, knowing she'd never seriously reprimand him for anything. Ever since they'd brought her to the hospital after that hellish night, her whole unit had been virtually grafted to her side. She'd never believed she'd ever merit that much support, but they'd provided it willingly and she could never fully repay them for it. All they seemed to care about, fortunately, was that she continue to be their commander, rather than bow out as some had feared she may decide to do. And she had indeed considered it, not because she was afraid to keep fighting but because she was afraid she'd suffer a weak moment at a crucial time and get one of her comrades hurt or worse. Her mental scars ran very deep, and all the care her friends provided couldn't heal them. Delates, however, was doing a fine job helping her there. She spent her nights with him, because even now the nightmares were too vivid to face alone. He provided a level of comfort beyond what a mere friend could offer, and for that she loved him deeply.

            _"None alive have experienced the horrors of nuclear destruction that plagued our world in the past, before there was the System, the Commonwealth or the Asiatic Alliance. Until now."_

            Archer's Unit 5 and Mason's Unit 3 stood side by side behind the front units. Behind Archer and Hawkins, Vulcan, Rykov and Krysta stood together at parade rest as Virdelko spoke. Krysta had made a full recovery, as expected, and Rykov had gotten Vulcan somewhat back into the fine art of living, though the silver Hunter still had a long way to go. He'd seen a Hunter shrink at Krysta's insistence, but the results were less than pleasing. Behind them, Nightchaser had bothered to show up despite his resignation from the Hunter forces. As he put it, he wanted to do some traveling. Despite this, Vulcan, Krysta and Rykov had found the chance to thank him for his help, and it seemed that Nightchaser would actually leave the ranks without any hard feelings for anyone.

            _"We have seen the horrors of nuclear firepower, and we cannot forget what we have witnessed. This was a small bomb. It was nothing compared to what has been used in the past. Imagine, if you will, a world where much larger devices are used to instill a reign of terror. Megacity forces are now moving to secure the nuclear arsenals of the past to prevent such atrocities from ever taking place."_

            Vulcan's eyes scanned the podium and the figures surrounding it, and he quickly wished that he hadn't. Despite vigorous protest from the intelligence chief, Signas had insisted that Caligula join him and Lifesaver in standing in front of everyone. The Invisible Man's wandering eyes found Vulcan's, and a brief moment passed in which something was communicated, and Vulcan didn't know for sure what it was. He'd seen Caligula since the attack, usually when he was training. Caligula had even approached him once, complimenting him on his stealth skills after Vulcan had worked his way through a training program involving infiltration. Another time he'd been training with his unit and looked up to see Damia say something to Caligula with a finger in Vulcan's direction, and the intelligence chief had nodded. Vulcan knew Caligula had some kind of program that ran agents on secret missions, and couldn't help but wonder if he was being considered for it. It unnerved him, and he didn't quite know why. He still could not reconcile the parts of his personality that now called for war and peace. Derringer's death still sickened and horrified him, and the only way to totally drown out the maddening actions of his own mind was to fight. But as Krysta often told him, this was not a solution—merely a crutch. The most frustrating thing was that he didn't know how to help himself, despite the fact that he very much wanted to. He felt as though he was wasting his friends' time being the way he was, but there was nothing he seemed to be able to do about it. To compensate, he tried to enjoy to the fullest the time he spent with them, and often he did have fun. Nevertheless his nights were always fitful and time alone was time in hell. He supposed he'd have to ask one of the more seasoned warriors for advice. He would never give up hoping, though, and somehow he had a feeling that would keep him going for as long as it took to find the light at the end of his personal tunnel.

            _"But imagine also all the other weapons that are used against the world on a more regular basis. Imagine the stronger weapons we use to contain them. Imagine all these weapons in the hands of an enemy. We must stop this from happening. But it's no use trying to stop the weapons from falling into violent hands, because as we know where there is a will there will forever be a way. The only way to stop the use of these weapons is to refrain from giving people a reason to use them."_

Behind Units 3 and 5 stood Zion's Unit 20 and Erich Zegmann's Unit 15. Squashed in between was the smaller aerial unit, with Commander Alec Tremont at the front with Bale on his right. On Alec's left was former Commander Taggart, who Alec had insisted be present. Taggart had undergone several surgeries and his eyesight had been somewhat salvaged, though he was in no condition to be flying anymore. Control had passed officially to Alec, who performed his duties quite well. Despite this he was still the life of his unit and, some argued, the Hunters as a whole. He often schemed up ridiculous pranks with Vulcan and Rykov, and had even got Zero joining in on some.

            _"For too long we have followed policies that have led to nothing but war. If there is to be a difference in the future, we have nothing to lose by starting now. Let us all, human and Reploid alike, strike out on a new course of relations. We must put an end to the hate that fuels these senseless battles. Together, I believe we can do this."_

            Signas, standing before them all, couldn't help but feel a certain sense of accomplishment. Despite his doubts about his first campaign, he felt his recent actions made up for any failures he might have been responsible for earlier. In this short time he'd begun a drastic policy of separation from the Megacity Army. In his view, the reason the Hunters weren't ready for the Seraph Mavericks was because of the Army's sluggishness in delivering their war supplies. The Maverick Hunter organization Signas envisioned was one that was entirely self-sufficient, and that meant not only reorganizing and rearming but also breaking free from tradition. The base in Tokyo was mainly for show, as Japan was guarded closely by the Army because of its proximity to the Asiatic Alliance and its financial importance to the System. However by relocating there, Signas allowed the Army to use its badly needed resources in better ways, and allowed a separation from the Megacity 5 government that Signas felt had encroached too far into Hunter policies. It would be hard for many to leave this base behind, but still easier for others, who had experienced some unpleasant things there recently. So far his plans had been approved and solidified by Marcus Raleigh, who was eager to get the Maverick Magnet that was the Hunter HQ away from his Megacity, and General Virdelko, who was just checking out as the district commander. Soon they would be able to implement his changes in full, and he looked forward to seeing how they went. The troops seemed fairly enthusiastic, and Cain approved. With any luck, they were on their way to the new world Virdelko was speaking of now.

            _"Hunters, soldiers, you have served the free world well, many of you paying the ultimate sacrifice. In honor of those fallen, we today dedicate this memorial to those who died stopping terror from defeating us here. Immortalized in stone as well as deed, may their actions serve as both a reminder and an inspiration to those who continue to fight in their stead."_

            The ranks watching General Virdelko sensed the end of his speech, and began to draw into a stance of attention. For this brief time, the primarily human Army and the primarily Reploid Hunter group glanced at each other without suspicion. The sight brought a smile to Signas' face, a smile shared even by the usually apathetic duo of Caligula and Lifesaver. Dr. Cain was the happiest of all. After the first war there had been rampant mistrust. The second war had gotten many thinking that controlling Reploids was the only way to go. Doppler had brought momentary respite, and even after his war there had been a renewed hope in the Reploid race. It had of course ended tragically with the fall of Repliforce, but Cain had not seen this kind of rapport since before General's coup. Ever since discovering X, he'd dreamed of a world where humans and Reploids could coexist. He didn't know why Virdelko suddenly wanted the same thing, but he planned to support him in every way possible, because it looked like it just might work.

            _"Let us not fail these brave souls. Let us not negate their sacrifice. For the future, we must unite. Only then will we truly enjoy the freedom we claim to possess. I look forward to a world where this is possible, for we have seen the alternative. Never forget what the past has taught us. The people who died here did not._

_            "You owe it to them to remember."_

            "He sounded like he was running for President of the Universe, or something," X declared, strolling through the halls of what was for now the Hunter Headquarters.

            "I'd vote for him," Zero shrugged, matching his friend's stride. "If he starts making good on his promises."

            "We've seen that before," X pointed out.

            "Repliforce just segregated Reploids into their own little unit," Zero waved it off. "They won't make that mistake again."

            In the past, the mere concept of Repliforce would have had the effect of a depressant on Zero's mood. Now, however, it didn't even faze him, and this was not lost on X. "You've changed. You know that?"

            "I sure do, X my boy, I sure do." Zero grinned easily. "It's kinda like walking into a wall. You can either keep on bashing your head against it, or figure out a way to jump over it. I just finally decided to jump."

            "Good," X said with a grin of his own. "You were getting to be a real drag on parties."

            "Oh eat it," Zero laughed as they approached the residential area. It was quite late and both were getting ready to turn in. Lately, however, they'd both been making a point to wander every hall possible on the way to a destination, if nothing else because they knew they wouldn't be seeing this place for much longer. "How long before the big move?"

            "Couple of months yet," X replied, starting up a staircase. "The Tokyo base needs a helluva remodeling job yet, and we want to make sure this place is in full working order before leaving it to Zion."

            "'Bout time someone gave him his own base," Zero grinned. "Figured he was gonna kill someone before long. At least he'll do a bang up job here."

            "No doubt. Not sure I want to leave, though."

            "Still? I think it's kinda neat." They'd had this conversation before, but neither tired of it. "Think about it, man. A fresh new beginning in a place where neither of us have bled before. There will be _no shitty memories _over there! Isn't that worth it?"

            "Yeah," X allowed, "but there's plenty of good memories here."

            "Got me there," Zero admitted as they arrived on their level. Despite the usual protocol, X and Zero had demanded rooms nearby each other. It made things easier for when they wanted to throw hall parties, something Zero had resumed shortly after his return from the hospital. "There are some things I'll miss, but change is good sometimes."

            "I know." X smiled wickedly. "Plus, given who we are, and now that we know who all the fun people are in the ranks, we can get everyone roomed together how we want."

            "My God, X!" Zero exclaimed in something resembling horror. "Abusing power? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?"

            "Oh eat it," X replied in a near perfect imitation of Zero's voice. He opened the door to his quarters and waved to his friend as he passed. "I'll meet you in the 17th's training room tomorrow at nine. Douglas has some new toy he wants to show us."

            "Our own little Marauder would be nice," Zero said with a hungry grin, waving in turn. "Adios, amigo. Watch out for snakes."

            "Right," X laughed, closing the door.

            Zero's own room was a short jaunt down the way, and he immediately strolled out onto the balcony overlooking the garden. Spring was settling in, and its promise of new life seemed as symbolic to Zero as anything else these days. The Hunter got rid of his armor and crashed in an armchair, flipping on his television while kicking up his feet. Most of it was the customary garbage shows that he'd never been interested in, and he quickly found himself watching the news, which was again mostly customary garbage that he'd never be interested in. One thing did catch his eye, however.

            "…And reporting live from Yekaterinberg, Russia, this is our very own Mina Jenkins."

            "Thanks, Bob." The field newscaster waved behind her at what appeared to be a small quarry of some sort. It was still snowy there, Zero realized, but it _was Russia after all. "You're looking at what appears to be an untapped source of energen crystals. Energen, an extremely valuable mineral in modern technology, is also one of the Earth's rarest treasures. This mine, discovered haphazardly by recent Russian emigrants, has already been explored by the world's premier energy companies, and the owners' finances are being handled by the Halo Firm, a small accounting firm managed by another recent emigrant. The mine, located forty miles north of…"_

            Zero stopped listening there. He stared at the screen for a few seconds before shaking his head and laughing very quietly. Three recent emigrants discovering energen and managing their new income through a company called Halo…it was a message, one sent specifically at Zero. Even Gold Serpent wouldn't be able to figure that one out. "Lucky bastards," he thought aloud. It probably wasn't luck, he knew. Malevex undoubtedly knew someone who owed him a favor, and he'd been repaid. Zero smiled, not just because he couldn't help but feel happy for them but also because he now knew where to find them if they were needed. They hadn't forgotten what he'd done for them and were willing to pay him back, else they wouldn't have done something this flagrant.

            Satisfied with the workings of the world, Zero switched off the television and stretched luxuriously. He got to his feet and walked onto his balcony, staring at the garden below. He smiled as his eyes fixated on the new centerpiece. The first iris flower Alia had seen months ago had been joined by many others, and now a dazzling display of pinks and violets adorned the garden like a central jewel in a crown. Zero's eyes gravitated towards his desk, where a small, discreet black vase sat containing the irises he'd picked from the hospital grounds. By some miracle they had yet to wither, though Zero was hardly one to question miracles. Then he felt the shift of air that indicated another presence nearby. He knew it wasn't really happening, and that he only imagined it, but he also knew that he was _meant to imagine it, which was enough of an explanation in his opinion. He didn't see Iris every night, but he was fine with that—time ripened the product. She was always there on nights he felt he needed her, and even when his subconscious mind was alone he suffered no longer from nightmares, and the dreams he remembered always made him laugh._

            But the occasional signs he saw, such as the one just now, were promises, and the tired Hunter decided to make good on the promise. He quickly dressed down for sleep, but paused before he got into his bed to look out the window at the salvaged city. 

Everyone and everything was bouncing back, and he couldn't ask for anything more. He was happier now than he'd been in all his years, and for once saw nothing in the future that could threaten his livelihood. For all intents and purposes, Zero was back and better than ever. The Hunter closed the door to the balcony and wrapped himself in his sheets, tuning out the sounds of other Hunters moving on floors below and of vehicles operating outside. They no longer bothered him. Nothing did.

            Smiling as he drifted off to the ethereal plane where his lover awaited, all Zero could think about was how good it felt to be alive.


	49. Notes and Thanks

**_NOTES_**

            IT-IS-OVER. Good lord, this thing is a monster. Would you believe I only intended it to be ten chapters originally? The idea formed in my head about a group of assassins pissed off at humans, and two years and 46 chapters later the story ends up at near 1000 pages.

            This is kind of an afterward to the story, in which I guess I'm gonna try to answer some of the questions I got while writing the story, and also explain myself a bit. Afterwards I've got a bunch of thanks to give out.

_Why the hell was the story so bloody LONG?_

            I apologize whole-heartedly to those of you who used precious moments of your life that you'll never get back reading chapter after chapter of this thing. I apologize further because my reasons for making this story so long are pretty self-serving.

            I plan to be an author of some sort, so I wanted to try all manner of different writing scenarios and styles, but there comes the problem of figuring out plots for each one. So I just used this one. Whenever I wanted to try something new, I added another chapter or two to this story. Take the Brazilian episodes for example. None of it was necessary for the major plotline, but I wanted to try my hand at a military takedown, so there it is. I also took too much time with setup, but that's Tom Clancy's fault for influencing me.

            One unhappy result was that a bunch of characters like Delates, Damia, Acrystos and their Unit 8/0 comrades, who had been minor characters for most of the story, were suddenly thrust into bigger roles at the end because I needed new pieces in place for certain events. But another reason this happened is because if I do write a sequel, some of these characters will be more in the spotlight than they were in Terrornova.

_Megacity System…?_

            Sue me, I'm a victim of the American Megaman Cartoon. Dr. Wily said he vonted to take ovah New York, so I believed him, not realizing that officially the Hunters are based in Tokyo. But that was corrected…albeit at the absolute last minute, but better late than never!

_These names are weird._

            Totally. I usually don't put a lot of symbolism into my names. "Teytha" "Gredam", things like those are all made up, probably influenced by the realm of fantasy, my other big interest. Some names do have more to them however.

            Malevex=male vex, evil curse. Originally this guy was supposed to be a real bastard, because he was the embodiment of a character I use in some role playing games. Obviously he changed a bit from the original blueprint.

            Chartreuse=He's one big contradiction. He's a Reploid, and yet he helps humans oppress his people. He's on the side of "good" yet commits acts of atrocious evil. He serves the government, but at the same time undermines it at the head of a crime ring. Thus, his name is Chartreuse, but there's not a speck of the color on him.

            Mortar=He's what's holding the bricks together. As the usual voice of experience and reason, he keeps his friends on the safe course.

            Virdelko, Kitao=Lots of names were made up, but I have _no_ fecking idea where these in particular came from.

_Strange plot developments!_

            Two reasons for this. First, given how long this sucker was I had to keep people's attention, and that meant a roller coaster of plot twists. Second…I just _like _plot twists. I like even more doing things I haven't seen done often in Megaman fics—nukes, nice Wily, happy Zero/Iris reunion, and most of all no easy way to decide who's on the right side. I think there's never only one solid way to view anything, so I decided to try and convey that. The Mavericks were forced into their situation and are justified in their anger, but they still used nuclear weapons—did they deserve to live? Perhaps, perhaps not. Did people like Sigma and Chartreuse deserve to die? Definitely, but Chartreuse lived. If there's a sequel he'll be in it, if not that's just how life works—sometimes the bad guy gets away.

_Sequel? Not ANOTHER bajillion chapters!_

            Eh…I have a _premise_ for a sequel, but I don't know if I'll have the time to do it. One thing I hate is to start a story and then leave it unfinished. That's the fate of my first Megaman fanfic, A Phantasm's Venom. If, however, I do hammer down a solid plot for a sequel, it will NOT be this godawfully long, and will probably center within the 10-15 chapter line. I'll call it "Trinity Helix". I don't know how I'll work that name into the plot, but I will because it sounds cool. Bwa ha ha.

_Trinity Helix_

            Storywise, this is what I've got. Someone is farting around with deadly weapons and targeting world leaders, while at the same time picking off powerful Reploids. X quickly comes to the conclusion that Ares is making his move, and organizes a response. Meanwhile the Gold Serpent is up to no good again, and may have more to do with current events than people suspect. In Russia, a third party calling itself the Black Ankh frowns in disapproval at the familiar sight of strong Reploids vanishing, and logically gears up for a fight.

            The main focus will be suspense and character development, because that's what I need to work on. Five characters will get the main focus: X, Zero, Vulcan, Damia and Alec. The plot will be more compact but hopefully as intense, and it will definitely move faster. There will be plenty of old and new characters, but they'll be organized far better and there should be a lot less confusion about who's who and what they're supposed to be doing.

            I'd LOVE to write this fic, but I want to make sure I'll have the dedication to finish it before starting it.

_If you liked Terrornova…_

            This story isn't the only work of mine. If you're reading this on Fanfic.net you probably know of AVALANCHE, the first part of my FF7 novelization (which I didn't finish…) the Supercondensed Megaman/Megaman X series and the Odessa Files. I've also got an archive on FictionPress.net. Just look for 'Revokov'.

            My "real" Odessa Files are on my website, which you can get to via my author page. I also have a Livejournal, where I sometimes put up story ideas and info.

**_THANKS_**

            Thanks to EVERYONE who read this story.

Mega thanks to anyone who REVIEWED the story. Feedback is an extremely precious thing to a writer, and every word good or bad was appreciated more than you'd believe.

            I bow in reverence to SPYDABASS and DRAKETH. These two gave me comments on virtually every chapter of this story, from the very beginning, which means they deserve like a war medal or something. I know SpydaBass has stories on FF.net and they're grand. If you haven't read Vile's Redemption or Dissonant Dreamers yet…well what are you waiting for?

            Here's a toast to ERICO, the fantastically cool writer who's continued support was _very _reassuring. If you haven't read hiswork, then buddy you're really being deprived.

            AMP and MILLEN STRYKER commented on all the earlier parts of the story, and if it weren't for their feedback this thing probably would never have been finished. Both are, surprise surprise, kickass writers themselves.

            Thanks to EVLORET for helping develop Malevex, scores of fanart and for just being cool. Stop saying you can't write.

            Thanks to XU for her own fanart of Malevex and Gredam.

            RED DRACO and ICE BLUE X fought hell and high water to get a working message board up, and since their board was where this story originated I thank 'em heartily.

            …And yet another thank you to anyone who read the whole thing. You guys own.

            That list is waaaaay too short. I _know _I'm forgetting someone. Hell, I could just list all the people on my reviews and the people from the Nocturnal Shadow board, but I'd forget someone there too. So let me finish with a

            _YOU ALL KICK ASS!_

            There, that should do it.

Terrornova was a blast to write, and I hope it was as much fun for you all to read. Till next time!

—Revokov


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